Let Me Call You Sweetheart
by Darth Claire
Summary: When Bucky and Steve take dance lessons, Bucky begins to see Steve in a new light. Pre-War Stucky. On going. Please review!
1. Jitterbug

**A/N:** I did not think I would write this pair. I tried to just right this as a buddy thing but it kept veering off into Stucky. Oh well!

* * *

 **Jitterbug**

 _-Brooklyn, 1935-_

Steve clutched his coat tighter as the cold January wind howled through the narrow streets. He jogged a bit to catch up to Bucky as they hurried down the sidewalk.

"I can't believe you talked me into this," Steve muttered for the umpteenth time.

Bucky threw an arm around Steve's shoulders. "Steve, I keep telling you, you gotta learn to dance. Girls love dancing."

"All the things you have to do to make girls like you, I'm starting to wonder if they're really worth it," Steve said.

Bucky didn't have any problems with girls. All he had to do was smile and they fell at his feet. Steve could learn to dance like Fred Astaire and they would still look right past him.

"Look, your Mom already paid for the class, let's just make sure we put it to good use," Bucky said.

Steve sighed as they hurried down the windy street.

000

The dance studio was chilly, but at least the windowless room blocked out the wind. Bucky and Steve stood against the wall while an older woman with impeccably combed gray hair floated around checking names.

"Class," she said in a high voice that managed to pierce through the chatter. "I am Mrs. Morris. I will be your dance instructor for the next three months. Now I know that some of you already know a little bit. I'd like to ask you to help those who are less practiced. Everyone can learn to dance, it just takes some people a little more time. I'd like to introduce you to my assistant, Nikolay. He will be helping me demonstrate."

Nikolay smiled at them. He had blond hair, a strong chiseled chin, and looked like he didn't speak a word of English. He also looked like he was probably giving it to Mrs. Morris when Mr. Morris wasn't around.

"Now pair off and we'll go over some of the basic steps."

All of the girls looked over at Bucky expectantly. He felt a small thrill, but remembered that he was there to work on his dancing. There would be plenty of time to talk to all of the girls when he could lead them around the floor like Fred Astaire. His eyes landed on a homely looking girl with thick glasses and dull flat hair. Despite her lack of beauty, she looked light on her feet. What he needed right now was a graceful partner, not a pin up model.

"Hi, I'm Bucky," he said.

She gave him an appraising look. "Myrtle."

"Would you like be my partner tonight?"

"That would be swell," she said. She smiled, but didn't seem overwhelmed by the offer.

He saw Steve talking to a pretty girl. Everyone else had paired off and she looked disappointed to be left with Steve. Bucky felt a flutter of irritation to see Steve get passed over by the girls again. At least with the numbers the way they were, one of them would have to dance with him.

"Ok class," Mrs. Morris said. "Let's go over some basic steps. Watch carefully."

Mrs. Morris and Nikolay demonstrated a simple two step, then instructed the class to practice. As he had expected, Myrtle performed the moves flawlessly. Maybe when the class was over he would try to set her up with Steve. She was a bit bossy for Bucky's taste but Steve seemed to like the strong types.

Beside them, Steve's partner kept tripping. Steve was barely staying in rhythm as it was and the girl was all over the place. Both of them were going to have bruised toes before the night was over. Bucky decided to see how well that one learned to dance before he asked her out.

* * *

"My feet hurt," Steve complained as they walked home. He was limping slightly. The girl, her name was Anna, had stepped on his foot with the heel of her shoe during a turn. From what Bucky could tell, Anna might be a worse dancer than Steve. Together they looked like Porky Pig and Daffy Duck on the dance floor.

"Tell you what," Bucky said. "Next week I'll let you dance with Myrtle and I'll see if I can teach Anna a few things."

"You'd do that for me?" Steve asked.

"You bet!" Bucky said, slapping Steve on the back. "I'll even help you practice so you don't embarrass yourself. I think you and Myrtle might hit it off. "

Steve smiled, stumbling slightly on his tender feet. "Maybe this dance class won't be so bad after all."

* * *

"I appreciate this Buck," Steve said as Bucky helped him move the coffee table aside. "I'm just not getting this."

"Don't worry. I'll have you dancing like Ginger Rogers in no time." Bucky said, though he wasn't sure it was possible. They had been in class for a month and Steve was doing even worse than before. Myrtle had danced with him once before moving on to one of the other boys. Now he was back with Anna. Bucky wasn't sure if Steve's lack of coordination was the problem or if he was stumbling because his feet were injured.

Bucky turned on the gramophone and held out his hand to Steve. "I'll lead first and then I'll help you through it the next time around. Just pay attention to where I'm telling you to go and follow my movements."

Steve stepped in and put his hand on Bucky's shoulder while Bucky put a hand on Steve's narrow hip. He was always shocked at just how skinny Steve was. He took Steve's other hand in his and led Steve through the steps. Steve faltered a little but mostly managed to keep up with him. If he had been a girl, he would have been doing well, but leading was harder than following. The song ended and Bucky took his hands away to switch positions.

"Can you lead one more time?" Steve asked. "I think I almost have it."

Bucky's stomach fluttered slightly as Steve looked up at him with those pale, pleading eyes. He took a deep breath.

"You got it. Let me grab a glass of water first. Lunch isn't sitting right."

Bucky took a few sips to settle his stomach and reset the gramophone. Steve improved that time, barely missing any steps. The song ended and he set up for Steve to lead.

"Ok, just do what you've been doing except in reverse and kind of push me where you need me to go," Bucky told him.

They ran through the dance a few times. Steve was doing better than Bucky had seen him do in class, but he was still having trouble remembering to direct Bucky. He let Bucky get too close and stepped on his foot a few didn't bother Bucky, but girls liked someone more assertive on the dance floor. The turn came and Steve went the wrong way. Their feet got tangled up and they fell to the floor, with Steve landing on top of Bucky. For a moment they lay there to catch their breath. Steve let his head slump on Bucky's chest.

"This is hopeless," he moaned.

Bucky patted him on the back, fighting down the funny feeling in his stomach again as Steve's weight pressed down on him.

"Let's take a break. I think I've got enough money for us to split a soda."

Steve sighed. "Yeah, I that sound like a good idea."

* * *

It was mid March, and the snow was starting to fall as Steve and Bucky walked home from the dance class. He had been stuck dancing with Anna again. She had stepped all over his feet and even kicked him in the shin a couple of times. He knew he was a bad dancer, but she was a walking disaster. Bucky had tried to take her off of Steve's hands, but Mrs. Morris always asked him to pair up with one of the girls who was a little less hopeless. Despite what she had said at the beginning, Steve felt like she has all but given up on him and Anna learning to dance. He found himself wishing he could just dance with Bucky. At home in the living room, he was actually getting better, but when it came time to lead a girl, he froze up. He wasn't sure he was going to survive 4 more weeks of this.

"Wait, hold up," he said, leaning against a wall to give his foot a break. Anna was heavy for a dame and he was sure she had broken something this time.

"Boy she really did a number on you," Bucky said.

"I just need to get home and soak my feet for a bit," Steve said.

"Say no more," Bucky knelt down. "Climb on."

"Buck," Steve started to protest.

"It's dark, no one's going to see. If your feet are really that bad, you need to keep the weight off them."

Steve put his weight on his foot to test it, but it was worse than before. Reluctantly, he climbed onto Bucky's back. It was embarrassing to have to be carried home, but Bucky wouldn't have offered unless he thought Steve really needed it.

"Thanks, Buck," he muttered as Bucky carried him down the dark street.

* * *

"Mom?" Steve called as he and Bucky entered the apartment. Bucky set Steve down in the dark apartment. Steve turned on the light and hobbled into the kitchen. There was a note from his mother on the table.

"She picked up an extra shift," he told Bucky. "Do you want to stay over? It's a bit cold to be going back out tonight."

"Yeah," Bucky said. "Get those shoes off and let's have a look at those feet."

Bucky put on the kettle while Steve sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and took his shoes off. He took a large bowl out from under the counter. Steve winced as he took off his socks. Bucky could see a sizable bruise forming on the right foot.

"Here let me take a look." Bucky sat down to examine the foot. He was used to dealing with bruises and sore muscles from boxing. "Doesn't look too bad. Do you have any epsom salt?"

"Top of the cupboard," Steve said.

The kettled began to whistle. Bucky set it aside and got the salt. He poured in a generous amount and then added the water from the kettle. He filled the rest from the faucets to cool it down and set in on the floor for Steve. Steve put his feet in the hot water with a relieved sigh.

"Sorry I'm being such a lousy host," Steve said.

"Are you kidding?" Bucky said. "I practically live here anymore. You don't have to fuss over me."

Bucky took a saucepan and poured some milk in it to heat up. Helooked through the cabinets for the cocoa. With the snow outside, they could both use something warm to drink before bed.

"So, have you thought about who you're taking to the spring dance?" Steve asked.

Bucky shook his head. "That's a month away and it's snowing outside! Besides, I think I may just want to go stag."

"But it's your last year!" Steve protested.

"Exactly," Bucky told him. "It's not like I'm going to marry whatever girl I take. I'd rather just spend the evening with my best pal and dance with whoever I want to."

Steve smiled and the flutter returned to Bucky's stomach. He turned around to stir the milk so that it didn't burn. Being around Steve had been a bit strange since the dance class started. He had mistaken it for indigestion at first, but now he realized it was nerves. Something about the way Steve held his hand when they practiced made his heart flutter. It wasn't unpleasant, but he just didn't know what to make of it.

He took the saucepan off the burner and stirred in the cocoa. It was probably just jitters about graduating. Steve still had one more year and the thought of leaving him alone terrified Bucky. Steve had no problem standing up for himself, he just didn't have the physical strength to back it up. Come next fall, Bucky would be working and Steve would getting beaten up in an alley without Bucky to come to his rescue. Steve would survive, he always did, but Bucky couldn't help worrying about him.

He poured the cocoa into two mugs and handed one to Steve. Sipping his cocoa, he took a seat at the table.

"You're still going to be around after you graduate though, right?"

Bucky smiled. Steve had read his mind. "You really think I'd leave you to fend for yourself? You'd get eaten alive."

"I can handle those idiots at school," Steve said.

Bucky laughed. "I meant the girls."

Steve smiled and sipped his cocoa. "Jerk."

Bucky grinned. "Punk."

* * *

"Alright, boys and girl's settle down!" Mrs. Morris called. "Today we're going to work on the foxtrot."

The girls smoothed their dresses and glanced coyly at Bucky. He had enjoyed the attention for a while, but now it was getting old. All of the girls kept tripping into him, and he was starting to think they were doing it on purpose. He was getting more practice in Steve's living room than he was in the class.

"Unfortunately Myrtle and Anna are out sick today so you boys will have to take turns."

Bucky raised his hand. "Mrs. Morris? What if Steve and I pair up. If two guys are going to have to sit out anyway, why don't we just partner up."

A cry of dismay rose from the girls and Mrs. Morris looked scandalized.

"It's just practice," Bucky said before anyone could get the wrong idea. "It's a waste for some to have to sit out."

"If you insist, James," Mrs. Morris said stiffly. She went to start the gramophone.

"You sure about this Buck?" Steve asked, eyeing the gaggle of heartbroken girls.

Bucky shrugged. "We practice like this all the time in your living room. You want to go first or should I?"

"You go. My foxtrot is a little rusty."

Bucky took Steve's hand and put his other on Steve's back, ignoring the flutter in his gut. He heard a few of the girl's giggle. Steve blushed which just made Bucky's stomach worse.

"Ignore them," Bucky said. "Just focus on my hands."

Mrs. Morris turned on the music. "Alright boy and girls. One, two."

* * *

"That class was great," Steve said, skipping down the street as they went home.

"You really didn't mind dancing with me?" Bucky said. He had enjoyed it more than he wanted to let on. After dancing with all of the girls in the class, Steve had ended up being his favorite partner after Myrtle.

"Well my feet don't hurt and I actually learned something for once," Steve grinned.

"Too bad the class is over in a few weeks," Bucky said. He realized he was going to miss practicing with Steve. Steve almost had it and soon he wouldn't need Bucky's help anymore. For some reason the thought of not dancing together made him a bit sad.

"Well we can just go dancing for real," Steve said, clapping him on the back.

Bucky forced a smile, but he knew he wouldn't be able to dance with Steve at any of those places. Still, it was good to see Steve happy. He threw an arm around Steve's shoulder, hoping that Anna and Myrtle would be out for the rest of the classes too.

* * *

Steve led Bucky around the living room. They had one more class and Steve was determined to learn the dance before next week. He lifted his arm to do the turn. Bucky had to duck under, but Steve managed to do it without tripping either of them this time. The song ended and Steve let go of Bucky's hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

"Ready to stop?" Bucky asked.

"I'm ok," Steve told him. "But you lead for a while."

Bucky reset the gramophone and took Steve's hand, putting the other gently on Steve's back. The music started, but Bucky just stood there.

"Buck, you're leading," Steve reminded him.

Suddenly, Bucky moved his hand to cup the back of Steve's head and quickly leaned in. Steve froze as Bucky's lips pressed softly against his. He tightened his grip on Bucky's hand, not certain what to do except stand there and let Bucky kiss him. Slowly, hesitantly, Bucky pushed his tongue into Steve's mouth. Steve twisted away, his breath coming in short gasps. Bucky's hand was still on the back of his head, keeping him from moving too far away.

Bucky looked into his eyes, hurt, scared, but not apologetic. He was waiting to see what would come of it, but Steve could see that he would not apologize, no matter what the answer, Steve was glad to see that. He had no idea what he was going to say in the next five seconds, but he didn't want to hear an apology.

"What about the girls?" he said finally.

"Honestly, they're kind of annoying," Bucky said. "I'd rather dance with you. Even if I have to let you lead from time to time."

The door rattled. Bucky let go of Steve and took a large step back as Steve's mom entered. Steve stood frozen to the spot, his heart racing.

"Oh hello James!" she said.

"Hello, Mrs. Rogers." He went to help her with the groceries. "I'll get these."

"Thank you! Practicing for your dance class?"

"Yes, ma'am," Bucky said, carrying the bags to the table.

She looked at Steve. "Honey you seem a bit flushed. You're not getting sick are you?"

"No, Mom," Steve answered. "I'm just tired from practicing."

"James, are you staying for dinner?"

Bucky looked at Steve. Steve avoided his eyes, hoping that he would decline the invitation. He had no idea what to say to Bucky right now and he didn't want to sit through dinner with this hanging over them. Bucky seemed to take the hint.

"No, thank you. I need to be going. I'll see you tomorrow at school," he said as he left.

Steve stared at the door for a moment remembering the feel of Bucky's lips on his.

"Honey, can you set the table for me?" his Mom asked.

Steve pushed all thoughts of Bucky out of his head. "Sure Mom."

* * *

Steve wasn't at school the next day and he missed the last dance class the following week. Bucky went by to see him a few times, but there was no answer. He was starting to worry until the following week when Steve showed up at his place.

Bucky was in his room getting ready for the spring dance. He heard the front door open, but ignored it until Steve appeared in the bathroom doorway. Bucky glanced at him and went back to combing his hair.

"You had me worried there," he said. "You feeling ok."

"I meant to come by sooner, but I had the flu and mom wouldn't let me leave the house for two weeks."

Bucky looked at him carefully. He looked thin, and paler than usual. "I went by to check on you."

"I think I heard you knock a couple of times, but I was pretty of out of it."

"So you haven't been avoiding me?" Bucky asked.

"Maybe a little," Steve admitted quietly.

Bucky set the comb down and looked at Steve. "So?"

"So, it my best pal's last school dance," Steve replied. "I can't miss that."

Bucky grinned and feeling the knot in his stomach loosen. It wasn't the answer he'd been hoping for, but it wasn't the worst one he could have gotten.

"And Mom's working late tonight if you want to stay at my place," Steve said.

"Yeah, that sounds great." Bucky could hear the trepidation in his voice, but after two weeks without so much as a word, they needed some time alone to sort things out. He headed for the door, throwing an arm around Steve.

"So do you remember anything from the class, or did the fever burn it all out of your brain?"

* * *

After the dance, Bucky and Steve walked back to Steve's apartment. It had been swell, but all evening, Bucky's mind had been bursting with questions that he had no chance to ask. Now that they were alone, the words had left his mind.

"So you like guys?" Steve asked before Bucky could think of anything to say.

Bucky shook his head. "I don't really know. I think I still like girls too."

Steve looked at him, just as confused as he was.

"I like you." Bucky told him. "That's what it comes down to. The last several weeks, holding you in my arms, I wanted to kiss you more than I wanted to kiss any of the girls in that class. Don't get me wrong, I've thought about asking a few of them out, but I just have more fun with you."

They climbed the stairs to Steve's apartment. Steve looked nervously at the key in his hands.

"If you don't want me to do that again, I won't," Bucky said. "We'll just pretend it never happened and go back to the way things were."

"No one ever wanted to dance with me before," Steve said quietly.

Bucky felt his breath catch. He looked at Steve hopefully.

"Like tonight. Most of the girls I asked make an excuse to get away as quick as they could. I like dancing with you too, Bucky." Slowly, tentatively, Steve reached out toward him. "I like the way you hold my hand. All the girls act like they're going to break me."

Bucky took Steve's hand firmly. Steve opened the door and led him inside. Bucky felt Steve's grip tighten and he reached up to stroke Steve's cheek.

"Anytime you want me to stop. Just say so."

Steve just stood there, staring into his eyes. Bucky released his hand to go turn on the radio. A few strains played as he walked back and took Steve's hand.

"Can I have this dance?"

Steve nodded as Bing Crosby began to sing.

" _Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with you,  
_ _Let me hear you whisper, that you love me too.  
_ _Keep the love light glowing in your eyes so blue  
_ _Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with you."_

Bucky could feel Steve's palm start to sweat as they danced. His hand moved closer to Bucky's neck, curling his fingers in Bucky's oiled hair. Bucky moved his hand to the middle of Steve's back drawing him closer. For weeks now, he had been wrestling with the feelings he had whenever they danced. Now, with Steve here in his arms, they finally seemed to make sense.

Bucky leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Steve's rosey lips. Steve tensed up and Bucky worried that he had overstepped, but then Steve put a hand on his cheek. He was still stiff, but he wasn't pushing Bucky away. Bucky ended the kiss and Steve laid his head on Bucky's shoulder.

"What are we doing here Bucky?" Steve asked, fearfully.

Bucky lifted his chin to look him in the eye. "I don't know either, but I like being with you more than I like being with anyone else."

He finally felt Steve relax in his arms. Steve stood up on his toes to kiss Bucky. It was soft and timid, but it was all Steve's doing. The kiss ended just as haltingly as it had begun and Steve laid his head back on Bucky's shoulder.

"So am I your girlfriend now?" he asked.

Bucky frowned in confusion. He hadn't really thought about it in those terms. He definitely didn't see Steve as his girl, but the idea of having a boyfriend felt strange. If Steve was the boyfriend, what did that make him?

"Let's not worry about what we're calling it right now," he said finally. "I just like being with you."

He stroked Steve's cheek tenderly as the music played on.

" _Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with you,  
_ _Let me hear you whisper, that you love me too.  
_ _Keep the love light glowing in your eyes so blue  
_ _Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with you."_

 **-End-**

* * *

Thanks for reading! This will be an ongoing fic, but later chapters may have a good deal of sexual content, I haven't quite decided. I may not be able to post them or will have to edit them if that ends up being the case. The full version will be on my AO3 account. archive of our own users/ Darth_Claire (remove the spaces as doesn't let you past external links.)


	2. My Best Girl

**My Best Girl**

 _-Brooklyn, Fall 1935-_

Bucky sat beside Steve in the dark theater. It was empty except for a few other couples who were there for the same reason they were. Bucky wished that they could risk going at it like the guy and girl three rows ahead, but he settled for holding Steve's hand. Steve had been busy lately with school and Bucky's job had kept him from seeing Steve as much as he would like. It was nice just to have some time together.

"How's school?" Bucky asked.

"Eh, you know," Steve said wearily. "It's a lot of work right now." He squeezed Bucky's hand.

"You know art school is going to be a lot of work too," Bucky reminded him.

"Well it'll keep me busy while you're at your job," Steve said, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"Yeah, I guess I haven't been around much either," Bucky admitted.

He had been working at a factory since graduation. The pay was bad and the hours were terrible, but it was all he could find. Lately, he had picked up a few extra shifts here and there to try and put some money away. He wanted to move out of his parents place eventually and he needed to save up as much as he could before he did that. So far he had managed to put away a fair amount, but the extra shifts didn't leave him a lot of time. The couple in front of them stood up. Bucky released Steve's hand, waiting for them to pass.

"I know I sound upset," Steve said. "But I just miss you."

"I know," Bucky said, taking Steve's hand again. "I'm trying to find something that pays better, but I'm lucky to have a job at all right now."

Steve nodded.

"Things'll pick up," Bucky promised. It would get better, it had to.

The movie ended and Bucky released Steve's hand as the lights came up.

"I think I have enough money for a rootbeer float," he said.

Steve thought for a moment. "I'd rather have coffee, and maybe a slice of pie. I need to study for a test later."

Bucky took his money out to count.

"If you're trying to save money, I can pay," Steve offered.

"It's a date. I'll pay," Bucky insisted.

"You paid for the movie," Steve reminded him firmly.

"Yeah, but-"

Steve grabbed his arm and pulled him into the restroom. There was a man at the urinal. Steve turned on the faucet to wash his hands, waiting until the man was gone. He left it running to muffle their conversation and turned to Bucky.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn about paying for me?" he demanded in a hushed voice.

"It's a date," Bucky argued. "If I take you out, I'm gonna pay. That's just how it works. That's how it's always worked."

"And who says I'm not taking you out?" Steve contended.

Bucky sighed. They had been having this argument for months now and neither one of them was any closer to giving in. One of the unexpected challenges to dating Steve was that there were no defined roles. With girls, Bucky would pay, he would open doors, pull out chairs, and everything else that went with it. With Steve, many of those things were out of the question, but the issue of paying had been a sticking point for both of them.

"Why do you always have to ruin a nice time with this nonsense?" Bucky asked.

Steve huffed and left the restroom. Bucky followed a few steps behind.

"Ok, how about first one to the diner picks up the tab?" Bucky suggested.

Steve glared at him and hurried out of the theater. Bucky followed, letting Steve gain a comfortable lead. The diner was far enough away that Steve would probably cool off by the time they got there. Suddenly Steve stopped, leaning against the lamp post. Concerned, Bucky jogged to catch up to him.

"Steve?" he asked.

"I'm ok," Steve wheezed. "I just need to catch my breath." His breathing sounded labored.

Bucky looked around for the nearest place where they could sit and get something to drink. He spotted a cafe two doors down and led Steve inside.

"Hey, can I get a glass of water?" he called to a waiter. He pulled out a chair for Steve to sit down. The waiter brought the water and Steve took a slow sip.

"And what else for you sir?"

Bucky looked at the menu and nearly fainted. He would have to pick the priciest place on the block. He considered leaving, but Steve needed to catch his breath. Cringing he looked for the cheapest item on the menu.

"Two cups of coffee," he said. The waiter gave him a disdainful nod and left.

Bucky ignored him and turned his attention back to Steve. He rubbed Steve's back, watching helplessly as Steve struggled to breathe normally. It has been a while since he had seen Steve have an asthma attack and he had forgotten how frightening even a mild one could be.

The waiter brought the coffee. Steve reached for the cup and drank slowly. After a few minutes his breathing began to ease slightly. He finished his cup and leaned back in his chair, trying to breath deeply. Bucky slid his cup over to Steve and took another look at the price on the menu. He might just have to swallow his pride and let Steve win the argument this time. Steve was already under enough pressure with school. Bucky being a jerk about who was going to pick up the tab had just added to it.

"Better?" he asked. Steve nodded, his breathing was still raspy, but not quite as bad as before.

"I think the coffee helps," he said breathlessly.

"Sorry I ruined the afternoon," Bucky said.

"We both kind of ruined it," Steve conceded. "If you want to pick up the tab, you can."

"I'll let you take this one," Bucky said.

Steve smiled and then looked at the menu. "You want to split it?"

"Sure, you pay for the two you had and I'll pay for mine," Bucky said with a grin.

Steve sighed and sipped his coffee. "Jerk."

Bucky laughed. "Punk."

* * *

Steve hurried out of school as the test ended. Senior year was more work than he thought it was going to be, but his mother had insisted that he finish his education if he wanted to attend art school in the fall. He would be fine if he could just make it through chemistry.

Steve came around the corner to see Bucky talking to a girl.

"Steve!" Bucky called. The girl wave goodbye and skipped away down the street.

"Who was that?" Steve asked. The way she had been batting her eyes at Bucky irritated him a bit.

"I used to tutor her in math, she was just saying hi," Bucky explained.

"Were you waiting for me?" Steve asked.

Bucky grinned. "Yeah, I thought I'd surprise you and take you to the museum."

"The museum?"

"Yeah, if you're going to art school, let's go look at some art."

Steve looked at him skeptically.

"Ok, I feel bad about the other week," Bucky confessed. "The museum is free so we don't have to fight over who pays."

Steve chuckled. "Sounds swell, I just need to drop off my things at home."

Bucky insisted on carrying his books as they walked home. Steve was in such a good mood that he allowed it. Bucky's idea of the art museum was perfect. There would be no silly argument or hurt feelings, just a quiet afternoon together.

"So what do you want to see first?" Steve asked him. Bucky didn't reply. He seemed preoccupied with something. Steve punched him in the shoulder.

Caught off guard, Bucky stumbled and almost dropped Steve's books. "What was that for?"

Steve scowled. "You were ignoring me!"

"Sorry, I'm just tired from work," Bucky said with a weary smile.

"Do you want to do this another time?" Steve asked. He wanted to see Bucky, but not if Bucky was too exhausted to enjoy it. "You know my mom has to work Saturday night. Maybe you could come over."

Bucky rubbed his neck. "I can't Saturday."

"What? Why not?" Steve asked. Bucky was never busy on Saturday. It was usually one of the few days he had free anymore.

Bucky avoided Steve's eyes. "I have a date."

"What do you mean you have a date?" Steve demanded in a hushed voice.

"My mom made me ask out a girl from church," Bucky explained. "I haven't taken a girl out since we started this and she was getting worried. She's been on me about it for months. I was able to put her off saying that I was trying to save money, but she gave me $5. I couldn't tell her no."

"Fine, have fun," Steve grumbled.

"Are you ok with this?" Bucky asked.

"It's fine," Steve said bitterly. "I'm still busy with school, date anyone you want, I hope she's nice,"

Bucky stopped him. "Steve, think about it for a second. If we stop dating girls it'll look suspicious."

"You're absolutely right," Steve agreed coolly. "Have fun on your date, Jerk."

"Well at least she'll let me pay, Punk." Bucky muttered.

Steve grabbed his books and stalked up the stairs to his apartment. He didn't want to look at Bucky right now.

"Wait, what about the museum?" Bucky called.

"Take your girlfriend!" Steve yelled, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

Bucky ran up the stairs after Steve. He had locked the door, but Bucky knew where the spare key was hidden. He kicked over the brick and opened the door.

"Steve?" he called. He glanced around to see if Mrs. Rogers was home. It looked empty. He went to Steve's room and knocked on the door.

"Steve?" There was no answer. "Steve, come on, talk to me. I'm sorry about all this, but ignoring me isn't going to change anything."

Steve opened the door and pushed past him without a word. He went to the kitchen and poured a glass of milk. Bucky stood by the doorway.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "My mom just wouldn't let up. She practically dialed the phone for me."

"It's fine," Steve tersely.

Bucky sighed. "It's not or you wouldn't be acting like this."

"It's fine," Steve repeated. "If you don't want to do this anymore, I get it."

Bucky heaved an exasperate sigh. "That's not what I meant!" he insisted.

"So what is it, then?" Steve asked. "What do the girls have that I don't?"

"Steve, It's not like that!" Bucky ran a hand through his hair. He had been hoping to talk about this later after the museum, but Steve had pressed the issue. He knew how this was going to sound and he wanted to do something to let Steve know he still cared before he brought it up. This had been on his mind for weeks. He owed it to Steve to be honest, but the little twit wasn't giving him a chance to explain.

"Then what is it like?" Steve demanded.

"I don't know!" Bucky snapped. He was trying to be fair here but he had had about enough of Steve's attitude. "I don't know what I'm doing here, Steve! I like you, but you're the only guy I find attractive and I don't know why the hell that is! And if I like you, why do I still feel all fluttery every time the girl at the deli smiles at me? I'm 18 Steve, I don't know what the hell I'm doing here but I need to figure it out before this goes too far!"

Bucky looked at Steve, his hands trembling. Since he had decided to make a move on Steve, he had tried to push past his doubts, but he couldn't ignore this any longer. He took a breath and continued in a calmer tone.

"So I'm going to go on a date with this girl. I'm probably going to kiss her and if she lets me, I'll try to slip a hand up her skirt. And then I'm going to come back and tell you about it because you're still my best friend."

Steve looked at him. "Well then I'm going to get a date for Saturday too," he grumbled.

"That's a great idea," Bucky forced himself to say. He said down and tapped his fingers on the table. "In the meantime do you still want to go to the museum?"

Steve looked at Bucky, sipping his milk.

"Well?" Bucky pressed.

"I'm thinking," Steve muttered.

Bucky leaned in giving Steve his most charming smile. "I'll let you buy me a soda afterwards," he promised. "I'll let you buy me anything you want and I won't complain at all."

Steve looked at him over the edge of the glass. He finished his milk and stood up. "Well let's go then."

Bucky threw an arm around him. "Whatever happens, you're still my best friend, right?"

Steve shoved him away, but he had a playful smile on his face. "Come on, Jerk, let's go before the place closes."

* * *

Saturday night, Steve sat at home sketching the cat that kept walking along the fire escape. He had been unable find a date. Even Hazel from English class with the buck teeth had turned him down. His mother had made a pie to cheer him up, but he didn't have much of an appetite. His fight with Bucky had been weighing on his mind the last few days. All he could think about was Bucky sitting at the movies, holding the girl's hand, dancing with her and doing all of the things he couldn't. He wondered if Bucky was enjoying it.

Sometime he hated feeling the way he did. Everything with Bucky was so complicated. He had gotten used to being careful, but it was exhausting. Sometimes he just wanted to forget the whole thing and go back to dating girls. It would be easier, but he couldn't ignore the way he felt about Bucky.

He had been shocked when Bucky had kissed him, and even more surprised to realize that he liked it. No one had ever made him feel like that before. The way Bucky looked at him, like he was the best guy he could ever have, the way he came over at 10 o'clock on a Friday night after a double shift and struggled to stay awake just so they could spend a few hours alone, Steve had never found that with anyone. No one had ever wanted him before. For a brief moment, everything had seemed perfect.

Their fight had brought him crashing back to reality. Bucky was right. If they stopped dating girls, it would raise a few eyebrows. The reality of dating Bucky was that it would always be a secret. He had thought he could accept that until Bucky's said he wanted to keep dating girls. It had been Bucky's confidence that had pulled Steve through the early weeks of fear and uncertainty. If Bucky was having second thoughts, Steve wasn't sure what to think any more.

There was a knock at the door. Steve put down his sketch pad and went to answer it. Bucky stood there, still dressed up from his date. His smile made Steve's stomach feel fluttery. For a moment Steve forgot that he had probably been kissing someone else an hour ago.

"Can I come in?" he asked

Steve shrugged and opened the door. "Do you want some pie?"

"Yeah, that sound good," Bucky said.

Steve cut two slices and they sat down at the table. It almost felt like a date. Bucky reached across the table to take Steve's hand.

"Are you still mad at me?" Bucky asked.

Steve shook his head, chewing a mouthful of pie. "It's just, I thought everything was fine. What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing," Bucky said, squeezing his hand tightly. "It's not you."

"What is it then?" Steve asked gently. The anguished look on Bucky's face made his heart ache. He had been too wrapped up in their romantic problems to see that Bucky needed him as a friend right now.

"I'm scare Steve," Bucky confessed, scraping a small bite of pie off his plate. "I'm scared that I'm making a mistake and I'm scared that if this all goes wrong I'm going to lose you."

Steve swallowed. "I want you to date, Bucky."

Bucky looked up. "You do?"

"What you said earlier, I thought about it. If you're going to chose me I need you to be sure. So date every girl in Brooklyn if you have to, but if you settle on me, I want you to be sure."

Bucky leaned over the table and kissed him. "You're what I want, but I still kind of want the girls too. It doesn't make any sense and I need to workout why I still get hot under the collar for the pretty dame at the candy store when I can't keep my mind off kissing you."

Steve nodded. "If this is what you need to do, do it. I will too. You need to tell me about them though. Don't go sneaking around on me. I'm still your best friend and that's not going to change."

Bucky smiled at him. "Thanks." He kissed Steve softly, and turned his attention back to his pie. "So there's this dame from the diner near work I might ask out."

Steve leaned over to punch him in the arm. "Don't talk about girls when you're kissing me goofus!"

Bucky laughed. Steve was relieved to see the sparkle back in his eye.

"So how was it? Think you'll see her again?"

Bucky shook his head. "Not in this lifetime! And that's the last time I date a girl my mom finds at church! She wouldn't even hold my hand and kept talking about God all night. Give me a sinner over a saint any day!"

Steve breathed a sigh of relief. One day a girl might supplant him, but it wasn't going to be tonight. He took the empty plates to the sink.

Bucky followed, put his arms around Steve and kissing his neck. Steve turned and pulled Bucky to him. Bucky leaned against him, his weight pinning Steve against the counter. Being pressed against Bucky like this was comfortable, but he felt something pressing into his thigh. He shifted his leg and Bucky moaned. Suddenly it dawned on Steve what he was feeling. Bucky put a hand on Steve's chest, deft fingers working at the top button. Steve twisted away knocking Bucky onto the floor.

"Too much?" Bucky asked.

"Depends what you had in mind," Steve said his heart racing.

Bucky smiled. He stood up and turned on the radio. "Forget it. Let's just dance. That girl didn't know a foxtrot from a waltz."

They fumbled over who would lead for a minute but Bucky finally won out.

Steve put his hand on Bucky's shoulder. Bucky put his hand on the small of Steve's back. They danced in silence for a moment.

"We really need to settle this dating thing," Steve said, as Bucky lifted his arm for a turn.

"I thought we just talked about it!"

"No, us," Steve clarified. "You're still dating me. We need to figure out who's paying."

The song ended and Steve took the lead for the next one.

"Hey, what if we just do what we do when we dance and switch off," Bucky suggested.

"And you'd be ok with that?" Steve asked. Bucky had been the most insistent about footing the bill.

He grinned. "Well if I'm dating you _and_ half the girls in Brooklyn I'm going to go broke if I don't let you buy me a cup of coffee once in awhile."

"It's a date," Steve said, pulling Bucky in closer.

"So we're not going steady, but you're still my best girl, right?" Bucky asked. Steve cocked an eyebrow. "Best guy?"

"Let's worry about that later," Steve said. He reached up and put a hand on Bucky's cheek, standing on his tiptoes for a kiss as the music played on.

" _Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with you,  
_ _Let me hear you whisper, that you love me too.  
_ _Keep the love light glowing in your eyes so blue  
_ _Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with you."_

 ** _-End-_**

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for reading! Leave a review and let me know what you think about the story so far!**


	3. Pugilist

**Pugilist**

* * *

 _-Brooklyn 1936-_

It was a warm spring afternoon. The flower petals from the trees swirled around as Steve walked home to meet Bucky. They were going to the museum and then it was Steve's turn to pay for slice of pie afterwards. He quickened his step, eager to get home.

"Come on, doll face, let's go to the park," Steve heard a voice from nearby. He stopped and looked around the corner. Three burly young men around his age were following a young woman down the street. She was ignoring them, but they weren't taking the hint.

"Aw come on baby, don't be such a cold fish!" one of the men persisted. The woman was at a near run, clutching her bag with her head down.

"Hey!" Steve yelled. "She doesn't want to talk to you! Leave her alone!" He hurled a rock at the biggest one. It glanced off harmlessly, but the man turned, glaring at Steve. The woman ran away as the men advanced towards him.

"See what you did there punk?" the man growled. He walked over and shoved Steve to the ground. Steve jumped to his feet and held up his fists. He swung and missed by a wide margin. The man hit him in the gut.

Steve staggered backwards, gasping for breath, but ran back in. He took a hit to the jaw and dropped. His head was spinning, but he staggered to his feet, his legs shaking. He wasn't going to let this lug get the better of him.

"You don't know when to quit, do you?" one of the other men asked.

"I can do this all-!" A fist to the eye cut him off and sent him sprawling. Steve braced himself, expecting to hit the pavement, but he landed against something softer. He took a breath and looked behind him. It was Bucky. He set Steve upright and swaggered forward.

"You got a problem with my friend?" Bucky asked.

"He needs to mind his own damn business," the man said taking menacing step towards Bucky.

"Oh yeah?" Bucky asked, looking back at Steve.

"Well you need to learn some manners!" Steve barked. "There was a lady present and I don't think she appreciated the way you were acting."

Bucky smirked. "One thing about this guy," he pointed a thumb over his shoulder at Steve. "If he goes to the trouble of trying to whip your butt, you have it coming."

The guy stepped to swing at Bucky. Bucky dodged and clocked him on the jaw. The guy fell flat. Bucky looked at the other guys. "Anyone else need to learn some manners?"

The others picked up their friend and ran. Bucky turned to Steve, rubbing his knuckles. "You ok?"

"I had him on the ropes," Steve said, rubbing his jaw.

"The hell you did!" Bucky exclaimed. "You're going to have a black eye tomorrow!"

Steve touched his face, wincing at the pain. "Well I got him to leave the girl alone."

"You're too chivalrous for your own good. Lucky I came along when I did."

"I don't need you to fight my battles Bucky," Steve grumbled.

"He was beating you black and blue! Why do you always have to do this?" Bucky took Steve's face to examine the damage. "Let's go back to my place and I'll patch you up."

Steve huffed. "You don't have to take care of me, Bucky. I'm not your girl."

"I know you're not," Bucky said, turning to head home. "You're coming to the gym with me tomorrow. I'm going to teach you how to fight."

"You serious?" Steve said falling in beside him.

"If you're going to fight, you're at least going to do it right. I probably should have done this years ago."

"Boxing's your thing, I don't want to get in the way," Steve said.

"You're not. I just want to show you a few things so you don't get killed if I happen to be at work next time you have to put some lug in his place."

Steve hurried along beside Bucky. He had always been too sick or weak to do any sports, especially something like boxing. He would never be as good a Bucky, but he might at least learn enough to take out a few punks in a back alley.

More than that, he was excited that Bucky was taking the time to teach him. He seemed to enjoy bailing Steve out of fights, but Steve hated it. He didn't like getting beaten into the pavement but he always felt so useless when Bucky stepped in to help. Maybe if he learned how to fight, Bucky would stop worrying about him so much.

* * *

Steve followed Bucky into the gym cautiously. He had never set foot in one before. He had never even come to see Bucky box. Watching people box didn't really interest Steve and Bucky had never asked him to come. Now that they were together though, he wondered if he should. Bucky went to the art museum with him all the time. If this was important to Bucky, he should learn something about it.

"Hey, Barnes!" an older man called from across the room.

"Holman! How's the wife?" Bucky greeted him.

"Pretty as as a flower and twice as dumb. I thought you were taking a few days off! You have a tournament this weekend." The man eyed Steve doubtfully. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Steve," Bucky said. "I'm just going to show him a few basics."

"Alright, go easy on him. He looks like a light breeze would knock him over."

Bucky laughed and led Steve back to the locker room.

"Alright. Get changed," he said, handing Steve a pair of shorts from his bag. "These'll be a little big, but if you pull the drawstring tight enough, they should work."

"Changed?"

"You can't box in that. You'll get all sweaty."

Steve felt his chest tighten. For a moment he thought it might be his asthma, but this felt different. The thought of stripping down to his drawers in front of Bucky made him nervous. Bucky was already unbuttoning his shirt.

Steve turned around and started to undress. Quickly, he slipped off his pants and put on the shorts. He turned back around to ask Bucky something and forgot the question completely. Bucky was standing there in his underwear, casually folding up his clothes. His bare chest rippled with the motion of his arms.

"I, I'll be right back," Steve said in a hurry. He ran to the toilet stall and shut the door. He tried to take a deep breath. He was sure he had seen Bucky like that before but he couldn't remember feeling this ache in his chest. Bucky was stunning. He was hard and chiseled like the marble statues at the art museum. He had hair on his chest, but not too much, just enough for Steve to curl his fingers into. He imagine his mouth on Bucky's hard chest, wondering what his skin would taste like.

Steve stopped. What was he thinking? Bucky had brought him here to teach him something and all he could think about was licking Bucky's nipples. Steve frowned, wondering where that thought had even come from. Idea of licking someone's chest was weird. He had thought about Bucky before, but never in such a lewd way. What would Bucky would think if he knew what was going through Steve's mind? Suddenly Steve realized he had a bigger problem.

The baggy shorts helped to hide his erection, but if he went out there like this, Bucky would notice. He took a deep breath, trying to think of things that weren't going to excite him. He tried baseball, but all that came to mind was Bucky sitting beside him with his strong arm around Steve's shoulders. Desperately, he thought about the smell of cabbage cooking for dinner and about math class with the 65 year old teacher who always smelled like cheese and onions. Slowly he felt the pressure ease and stepped out of the stall.

Bucky was waiting for him. Thankfully, he had put on a shirt. It was tight and sleeveless, but it was something.

"Come on," Bucky said, clapping him on the shoulder. Steve followed Bucky out of the locker room, trying to keep his mind off Bucky's arms.

* * *

"Alright, make a fist for me," Bucky said. Steve curled his fingers over his thumb. Bucky took his hand and opened it back up. "No, no, no, that's your first mistake. If you do it like that, you're going to break your thumb."

He curled Steve's fingers down, placing his thumb over them. Steve looked up at him with those sharp blue eyes. Bucky felt his breath catch.

"Like that," he said, his hand lingering on Steve's just a moment too long. He let go and backed up a step to put some distance between them. Exhaling slowly, he held up the practice mit.

"Ok, punch." Steve threw a weak jab at the mit. Bucky dropped it on the floor and took ahold of Steve's thin arm. "Keep your wrist straight, and hit with the first two knuckles."

He picked up the mit and Steve struck again. "Better. Keep going."

Steve hit the target a few more times. His form was improving with each swing, but he wasn't going to kill a mosquito with that punch. Bucky put down the mit and led him over to the bag.

"Ok, watch closely. You're throwing the punch with your arm. That's not going to do much. All the power comes from your hips. You want to twist from there."

Bucky set up in front of the bag and hit it with his right. He punched again a few times to let Steve study his stance.

"Ok," he said, turning to face Steve. "Put your feet slightly apart, like this, and as you punch," he demonstrated slowly, "pivot on your feet."

He held up the mit again. Steve took a few practice swings to rehearse the motion. He stood back and swung full strength. He twisted too far and tripped. Bucky stepped forward and caught him. Steve landed with his back against Bucky's chest. Bucky held him for a moment, feeling the heat of Steve's thin body against his.

"You ok?" he asked, putting Steve upright and taking an extra step back to be sure no one got the wrong idea. He was glad his father had pushed him toward boxing instead of wrestling. He never would have made it having Steve pinned down under him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Steve said, bouncing on his feet a few times. "Let's try again."

Bucky watched as Steve punched the mit over and over again. He was terrible, but the fire in his eyes made Bucky smile. Steve was never one to back down from a fight, even a fight he had no chance to winning. It worried him sometimes, but it was also one of the things he admired most about Steve. There was something in him that refused to be defeated no matter the odds.

After several minutes, Steve seemed to be punching with some consistency. Bucky lowered the mit. Steve was breathing hard but he didn't seem ready to quit.

"Ok, that was good," Bucky said. "Let's take a quick break and we'll try it again."

* * *

Steve was exhausted when they finally finished. His arms were going to hurt in the morning but Bucky had already told him that they should come back tomorrow. He said that the best thing for sore muscles was to keep moving and loosen things up. Right now though, all Steve wanted was to go home. He was starving and he still had to study for history before bed.

He followed Bucky into the locker room. A hot shower sounded nice, but as Bucky peeled off his shirt, Steve realized what showering at the gym would mean. It wasn't the first time he and Bucky had seen each other naked, but he had never had any interest in looking before. Bucky barely seemed to notice that Steve was there as he stripped off his clothes. Quickly, Steve turned around, removing his clothes as slowly as he could without seeming like he was stalling. He waited for Bucky to head off to the shower before finishing.

Trying to think of anything except for Bucky's naked check, Steve followed. He hesitated for a moment, debating if he should take the shower head beside Bucky or one on the other wall. He didn't want things to seem awkward, but he also didn't want Bucky to feel like he was avoiding him. Finally he chose the shower beside Bucky, looking straight ahead. He counted the tiles on the wall as he washed trying to keep his mind off the fact that Bucky was standing a foot away from him, naked and soaking wet. He should never have agreed to this, but there was no way out now. He was just going to have to put aside his feelings and focus on boxing.

Steve jumped as a hand touched his shoulder. He lost his footing and slipped on the wet floor. Bucky stepped forward and caught him.

"Careful there!" Bucky said. "You don't want to fall and bust up your face again."

Steves stood there for a moment in Bucky's arms, trying to catch his breath. He could feel his body pressed against Bucky's. Again, the thought of licking the hard muscles of Bucky's chest popped into his head. He found his footing and stepped away, returning to his shower.

Bucky laughed. "Are you ok? You looked a bit distracted."

"I, I have a history test tomorrow," Steve stammered. He rinsed off and hurried to dress before Bucky finished. It was going to be a long week.

* * *

That night, Steve was in the bathroom getting ready for bed. He finished brushing his teeth and rinsed out his mouth. He was going to fail the history test tomorrow. All night he had been distracted by thoughts of Bucky in the shower. It would be a miracle if he remembered anything he had read. He felt himself getting hard again as he pictured the water cascading off Bucky's shoulder. Biting his lip, he looked over to make sure the door was locked. His mom was fast asleep, but he didn't want her to walk in. He sat on the edge of the bathtub and took a hold of himself.

He closed his eyes and thought about how Bucky's arms felt as he stroked himself. The firm muscles, the way he moved when he boxed, graceful yet strong. Steve had never thought about Bucky like this before, but it made him ache to feel Bucky's powerful hands on him. He remembered the touch of Bucky's rough, calloused fingers on his bare shoulder. He thought about Bucky's hard chest and what he had wanted to do earlier, picturing his tongue lapping at Bucky's nipple. Suddenly Steve couldn't stand it any longer. He bit his lip to keep from crying out as he came.

His heart racing, he went to the sink to wash his hands. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror and stopped. After watching Bucky all afternoon, he suddenly realized what all the girls must see when they looked at him. He was pale and scrawny, with barely had any muscle to speak of. Compared to someone like Bucky, he never had a chance.

Suddenly he wondered what Bucky saw in him. He thought about Bucky, about his graceful feet and his taut muscles. Why would someone like that choose him? How exactly did Bucky see him? He was slender enough to look feminine, but if Bucky wanted a dame, he could find one prettier than Steve. But if he wanted a guy, why Steve? Surely he could find someone stronger, someone who might be able to have his back instead of needing to be rescued all the time. As much as Steve hated to admit it, he really did need Bucky's help. Even if he learned how to box, he wouldn't stand much of a chance. He hated feeling like a burden to anyone, and he wondered if Bucky ever got annoyed at having to save him.

Sighing, he tore himself away from the mirror and went to bed. Whatever the answer was, he wasn't going to figure it out tonight, and if he didn't get some sleep, he would never stand a chance on his history test.

* * *

Bucky watched carefully as Steve squared off against the bag. They had been working on this for two days and Steve was improving. He still wasn't any good, but he was learning.

"Good!" Bucky said as Steve hit the bag. It wasn't much, but he had managed to put a bit of power behind that one. "Again."

Steve hit a few more times. "Alright, I think you have the hang of it. Let's try some footwork. You probably won't knock anyone out, but you can at least get out of the way."

"I'm not going to run," Steve said fiercely.

"I didn't say run, I said duck," Bucky said. "Don't just stand there and get hit, punk"

Bucky showed him how to bob and weave. The odds of Steve knocking someone out were slim to none, but if he could show Steve how to move and how to dodge, maybe he wouldn't get hit quite as much. This part came harder to Steve. He didn't have the sort of muscle or coordination needed to move like that, but he kept at it. Bucky knew Steve was going to be sore the next day, but he didn't stop until Bucky told him to.

"Alright, that's enough for today," Bucky said. Steve leaned forward with his hand on his thighs, trying to catch his breath. "You're getting better." Bucky told him.

"That's not saying much," Steve muttered.

"Well at least I know you won't break your hand," Bucky said as they headed back to the locker room. "It'll be kind of hard to draw with a cast on."

Steve laughed at that. Bucky loved hearing Steve laugh. He could be so serious sometimes, but the way his eyes twinkled when he laughed made Bucky's heart flutter. Seeing Steve happy, even for a moment, always brightened his day.

They undressed to shower. Bucky had been a nervous at first about showering with Steve after the first time he realized it wasn't a big deal. This was no different from when they had showered together in gym class back in school. Today was different though. He wanted to ask Steve something, but he needed to work up the nerve. Bucky finished his shower and came out to get dressed. Steve was already on the bench tying his shoes.

There was a tournament Saturday that Bucky was competing in. Steve wasn't really interested in fighting so Bucky had never asked him to come before, but he wanted Steve there this time. It was selfish, and he knew Steve would probably be bored most of the day, but he wanted Steve out there in the crowd cheering him on. He turned around to get dressed. It would be easier to ask if he couldn't see Steve's face.

"Hey, there's a tournament Saturday," Bucky said, trying to seem casual. "Not sure I'll get very far, but do you want to come watch? I know boxing doesn't really interest you but it would be nice to have someone out there watching me."

"Yeah," Steve said breathlessly. "Sounds, uh, sounds fun."

Bucky grinned. He felt bubbly inside as he finished buttoning up his shirt. He picked up his bag and turned to Steve.

"Let's go," he said. "I'm starving."

* * *

Steve sat across from Bucky in the diner. His mom was working late so Bucky had suggested they go out. Steve had agreed since it was Bucky's turn to pay, but his mind wasn't on the food.

When Bucky had asked him to come to the match, he had been trying to think of an excuse but instead he blurted out yes. This week at the gym with Bucky hadn't been easy and Steve wasn't sure he could make it through an entire day of watching Bucky in the ring, shirtless and sweaty. He also didn't want to miss it. He knew that there would be girls there watching and he wanted Bucky to come home with him.

"Hey," Bucky said. Steve looked up. "You're a million miles away."

"Sorry," Steve said. "I'm just tired."

"I bet," Bucky said. "You've been working pretty hard this week."

Steve saw Bucky's arm extended under the table. He reached underneath and took Bucky's outstretched hand.

"Thanks for teaching me how to punch," Steve said. "Maybe next time I'll be able to take the guy down myself."

Bucky smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. Steve wondered if he was having second thoughts about asking Steve to come to the tournament. He dropped Bucky's hand and turn his attention back to his food.

"So are we going to the gym tomorrow?" he asked.

"Nah, I have to work," Bucky said. "And you should take a day off. You don't want to push yourself too hard too soon."

Steve nodded. "So the tournament, what time should I be there?"

Bucky shrugged. "Starts at 8, but you pick me up at my place and we could walk over together."

"You're not going to get your dad to drive you?"

Bucky shook his head. "I need to warm up before the match anyway. The walk will be good."

Steve felt a wave of relief. Bucky did want him there. "Do you think you'll win?"

Bucky shrugged, but that cocky grin had returned. "There's some pretty good guys I'm the tournament."

"You'll lay 'em out before they can blink," Steve said, popping a potato in his mouth.

* * *

The night before the tournament, Bucky lay in bed, unable to sleep. His mind was racing, but his thoughts weren't on the upcoming match. For the first time, Steve would be watching him. He had been elated when Steve agreed to come, but now he was worried. He liked the idea of having someone in the crowd who was cheering just for him, not because he was winning, but because they wanted him to do well. He wanted Steve to cheer for him, but more than that, he wanted to impress Steve. After a match, the girl would always looked at him like he was the strongest man on earth. He wanted to see that look in Steve's eyes too, but he couldn't really picture Steve reacting that way.

That was one reason he had realized that he wasn't ready to settle on Steve. It was easy to impress the girls. They would fawn over him and tell him how great he was. Even if he had no interest in them, it made him feel strong. He had been raised to believe that a man should provide for his family and protect the people he loved. Bucky didn't have a family, but with his job the way it was, he wouldn't have been able to support one. The factory had been cutting hours lately and his plans to save up and move out of his parents place had been put on hold for now. Sometimes he felt a little insecure not even being able to provide for himself. He enjoyed those moments when he was out with a girl because he got to take charge. It made him feel strong and capable to have someone rely on him. He didn't always get that with Steve.

He liked Steve more than any of those girls, but their relationship had involved a good deal of compromise. Bucky didn't get to take the lead the way he did with the girls. He only got to pay half the time and Steve was always very clear that he didn't need Bucky to protect him. In some ways it was better. He could be himself with Steve instead of having to put on a show, but sometimes he missed that part. He missed feeling needed. He admired Steve's spirit and tenacity, but just once, he wanted Steve to say thank you for saving his ass instead of insisting that he could have handled things on his own.

The last week at the gym, he had had a chance to show off a bit, but Steve had barely noticed him. He had been focused on learning what Bucky was trying to teach him, but he had never once looked at Bucky the way any of the girls did. In fact most of the time he hadn't looked at Bucky at all. He had asked Steve to come tomorrow hoping that he might get a chance to show Steve what he could really do in the ring, but he wondered if Steve would even care. Was Steve excited to see him or was he just coming because Bucky had asked?

Groaning, Bucky pulled the covers over his head and rolled over. He could sort this out later but he needed to get some sleep. No one was going to be impressed if he fell asleep in the ring tomorrow.

* * *

Steve knocked on Bucky's door Saturday morning. It was early, but he had promised to come pick Bucky up for the tournament. Bucky's little sister Becky answered the door and turned away without a word to him.

"Bucky! Steve's here!" she called, leaving Steve to let himself in. That was always how things were at Bucky's house. He was the oldest of four and his mother always seemed to be in six places at once. The house was always loud and busy. Steve found it overwhelming, but he also envied the excitement. So often he was alone with nothing by his art and the neighbor's cat to keep him company.

Bucky came to the door, a piece of toast hanging out of his mouth and his jacket hanging off of one arm. He herded Steve out the door and finished buttoning up his jacket. He took the toast out of his mouth and took a bite as they headed down the hall.

"You ready?" Steve asked. Bucky nodded, chewing his toast. "Nervous?"

"Nah, what's there to be nervous about?" Bucky asked with a cocky grin. "I'd better hear you out there cheering for me."

"If I cheer you'd better win," Steve teased. He didn't really care if Bucky won or not, he was just excited to watch. Bucky looked around to be sure the hall was empty and then led Steve a small alcove near the stairwell, giving him a quick kiss.

"And what do I get if I win?" Bucky asked.

Steve didn't answer. He stood up on his tiptoes to give Bucky another kiss.

"Will that do?" he asked nervously.

Bucky smiled, brushing his cheek softly. "It's a start." He put an arm around Steve's shoulders and led him down the stairs. "Come on, I don't want to be late."

* * *

It was late in the day as the tournament drew to a close. Bucky had made it to the final round. Steve was excited about that. He didn't like fighting, not really, but seeing Bucky dominate his opponents like this had stirred something in him. Bucky was strong and fast and powerful. He had been nervous at first about spending the day watching Bucky half naked in the ring, but he had soon realized what an amazing opportunity he had. All week he had avoided staring at Bucky in the locker room. Now he could admire him openly without arousing suspicion.

The crowd settled down for the final match as the referee announced the competitors. Steve watched as Bucky climbed into the ring. Bucky waved to the crowd as his opponent climbed in. The referee introduced them, but Steve could barely hear over the screams of the girls behind him. They had come to support one of the other boxers who had lost early on and were now cheering for Bucky. Steve felt a surge of pride. When this was over, this man that everyone admired was walking him home. The girls were falling all over themselves to get Bucky's attention, but tonight Bucky was his.

Steve watched intently as Bucky faced off against his opponent. The crowd grew quiet. Everyone's eyes were on his feet and hands but Steve's gaze was firmly locked on Bucky's bare chest. Bucky had been fighting all day and hard muscles were glistening with sweat. Steve felt his heart start to beat faster at the idea of having those strong arms around him later. The bell rang to begin the match. Bucky's opponent rushed in to attack. Bucky ducked and slammed his fist in his opponents jaw. The man dropped like a rag doll. The crowd held their breath as the referee began to count. Steve watched in amazement. Bucky might have just won the match with one punch.

"Eight… Nine… Ten!"

The referee held up Bucky's hand to declare him the winner and the crowd erupted in cheers. Steve yelled as loud as he could. Bucky's eyes found him in the crowd. He blew a kiss. Steve felt his heart flutter, until the girls behind him screamed, obviously thinking that the kiss was meant for them. Steve looked at them, wondering if it had been.

Suddenly he didn't enjoy the sight of Bucky half naked in front of a cheering crowd. Bucky had seemed happy to have him there, but with this crowd, did it even matter anymore? Steve sat down on the bench as everyone surged forward to congratulate him. He looked at the girls who had been behind him and at a dozen more just like them. He sat there as the arena cleared out, wondering what chance he stood with Bucky against a flock of beautiful dames.

Steve waited in the empty arena for Bucky to come out. He knew Bucky wouldn't mind him going back to the locker room, but he couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty that had been plaguing him for the last few days. Finally, Bucky emerged from the locker room. He saw Steve and waved.

"There you are!" Bucky exclaimed. "I was looking for you! I must have shaken hands with half of Brooklyn."

"I didn't want to get stepped on by your admirers," Steve joked humorlessly.

Bucky grinned. "I did have to fight off a few of those."

"Congratulations," Steve said. "That last round really was something."

Bucky held out his hand to help Steve off the bench. "Come on, I'm starving, let's go celebrate!"

Steve forced a smile and allowed Bucky to help him up. His concerns could wait. This was Bucky's night and he didn't want to spoil things.

* * *

Bucky glanced at Steve as they walked along the quiet street. Steve had been quiet since they left the arena. He had hoped that his victory might get a reaction, but Steve was lost in his own world.

"What's with you?" he asked, punching Steve lightly on the arm. "I won! Let's see some enthusiasm!"

"You're really handsome Bucky," Steve said quietly.

Bucky grinned. "Thanks." So Steve was impressed. He felt himself walk a bit taller, but it still didn't explain why Steve was acting this way.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" Steve blurted out suddenly.

Bucky laughed, caught off guard by the question. "You have pretty lips."

"I'm serious," Steve said in a solemn tone.

Bucky stopped, looking at Steve in confusion. "Do you want me to think you're pretty?"

Steve looked up at him. "I want to know what you think I am." His posture was straight and sure, but there was an edge of uncertainly in his voice. "The girls you always date are always pretty, so what am I?"

"Geez Steve, do you think I'm that shallow!" Bucky exclaimed. Where had this come from? "I don't care what you look like, that's not why I like you!"

"Then what is it?" Steve asked again. "You're strong and handsome. You could have anyone you want. So why me?"

Bucky put a hand on his shoulder. He had been such a fool to worry about impressing Steve. Just because Steve didn't need him to pay for dinner or walk him home didn't mean that Bucky wasn't needed. Steve still needed him the same way he always had. Maybe he didn't swoon every time Bucky flexed his muscles, but there were other ways to be strong. Steve needed someone to be man enough to tell him when he was being mopy. He needed Bucky to be strong enough to tell him what he needed to hear.

"You're the best guy I've ever known," he said. "That's what I see. Not how that suit hang off of you because you're too damn skinny or that stringy hair. I'm looking at that guy who never backs down from a fight, who's going to stand and take a punch from someone who forgets his manners around a dame," he risked brushing Steve's cheek with his finger. "The guy who's willing to wait for me while I figure out what I'm doing here. Yeah, all those girls are pretty, but that's just window dressing. I like the way you laugh and that fire in your eyes when you're about to do something stupid. You're beautiful Steve, in a way I can't even describe."

"Wow," Steve whispered. He looked at the ground. "So when you think about me, do you get," Steve fumbled for the words. Bucky was certain that if it weren't so dark, Steve's face would be red. "Excited?" Steve said finally.

Bucky looked around quickly and pulled Steve into an alley. He pressed him against a wall, kissing him fiercely. He felt his pants getting tighter and he slipped a hand inside Steve's jacket. He could have found someone prettier but he would never find someone as loyal or understanding. People with the sort of spirit and compassion that Steve possessed were rare and precious. He wasn't the best looking guy, but that sparkle in his deep blue eyes was all it took to get Bucky going. He inched his hand down to cup Steve's ass, pulling him close.

"Do you feel that," he said in a sultry voice, grinding his hips into Steve's.

"Uh-huh." Steve's breath was coming in heavy gasps. Bucky could feel him trembling.

"Having you at the gym the last week, it's been hard to hide that. When I'm alone at night, I think about holding you in my arms while we dance and it drives me crazy." He leaned for a kiss.

"Wait," Steve said putting a hand on his chest. Bucky didn't let go but he took a step back to give Steve some space. "I don't know how to do this," Steve said lamely.

Bucky brushed a strand of hair out of his face. "Me either, but this seems like a good place to start."

He kissed Steve, pressing their bodies close together. Steve stood on his tiptoes, grabbing Bucky's tie to pull him closer. He broke off the kiss, his lips still hovering near Bucky's.

"I like watching you box," Steve mumbled shyly. "Can I come watch you more often? You, you're really handsome without a shirt."

"Whenever you want," Bucky said. Steve leaned back a bit. Biting his lip, he started to unbutton Bucky's shirt. With a shaking hand he touched Bucky's chest, brushing his fingers over a nipple. Bucky gasped. Steve leaned in to place a kiss on Bucky's chest. Bucky laughed as Steve's tongue tickled his skin. Steve's slight fingers curled, gripping the hair on Bucky's chest. Bucky grunted softly, pulling Steve closer. Something about Steve clinging to him like that made him feel strong.

A noise from the street caught their attention. Bucky jumped back and turned to fix his shirt. Steve shrank into the shadows. They waited in the dark, but no one came down the alley. Bucky breathed a sigh of relief.

"I think it was just a car backfiring," he said.

Steve was leaning against the wall, panting heavily. "That was kind of stupid"

"Maybe, but it was kind of exciting," Bucky said impishly. Steve looked at him flatly, still trying to slow his breathing. There was no danger, but the moment was over.

"Were you licking my chest?" Bucky asked. Steve looked away and jumped to his feet.

"I'm starving, let's go eat," Steve said, hurrying out of the alley. "Who's turn is it to pay?"

"Yours," Bucky said as they left the alley. "And we're celebrating so make it a good one."

"Do you want to get a hotdog?" Steve asked quickly.

"You know what those kind of look like, right?" Bucky teased as he followed Steve down the street.

 **-End-**

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading. I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Please review and let me know what you think! I love hearing from my readers.


	4. Whiskey

**Whiskey**

 _-Brooklyn Summer 1936-_

Bucky and Steve sat on the roof of Steve's apartment building watching the fireworks. Steve felt the boom of the explosion echo in his chest. The colorful bursts filled him with a sense of pride in his country. He had never really cared about celebrating his birthday but he had always enjoyed this part of the day. Especially these days, it was reassuring to watch the celebration and remember that generations of Americans before them had endured and overcome countless hardships.

Things had been difficult lately. Steve had hoped to find a summer job, but the stress of graduation had taken a toll on his health and his mother had insisted that he stay home over the summer to rest. He would have preferred to work and save some money, but the last thing he wanted was to miss his first semester of art school. He couldn't ruin it now after she had worked so hard to afford it. Things with Bucky had not been easy either. Bucky was worried about his job, even though he wouldn't say so, and they were both still struggling to figure out things between them.

He leaned his head on Bucky's shoulder. For now, against the backdrop of colorful explosions, he just wanted to forget all of that. It was hot and muggy, but being able to sit here with Bucky was worth a little discomfort. Bucky was in his undershirt, sweat glistening off the hard muscles of his shoulders. The feel of Bucky's arm around him was as thrilling as the fireworks. The roof was empty and with all eyes on the explosions in the sky, they didn't have to worry about being seen.

Timidly, Steve snaked a hand over to lay it on Bucky's firm stomach. The damp shirt clung to his chiseled form. He could feel the hard lines of Bucky's torso through the thin cotton, hard and sculpted like a marble statue. With his job cutting hours, Bucky had been spending more time at the boxing gym. Steve craned his neck up to kiss Bucky, slipping a hand under his shirt to trace the hard muscles of Bucky's chest. Bucky put a hand on his back and shifted to lie him down. The uneven texture dug into his back as Bucky lay on top of him, his hips pressing into Steve's. He threw an arm around Bucky's neck, holding him down. Pushing the hem of Bucky's undershirt up to his neck, he ran his tongue over a nipple before sinking his teeth into the firm muscle.

"Ow!" Bucky jerked away, rubbing the spot. "That's gonna leave a mark, punk."

Steve just smirked, hoping it would bruise. That would keep Bucky from making out with anyone for a while. Steve still had a hard time containing his jealousy at the thought of Bucky doing this with some girl. He knew their arrangement was for the best, but the thought of someone else's lips touching Bucky's made his blood boil. He could date all he wanted but the girls would know he was taken when his shirt came off.

"You're gonna pay for that," Bucky said playfully, pinning him to the ground with firm grip.

Steve moaned as Bucky kissed his neck, grinding his hips into him. He hated to admit, it but he liked it when Bucky played rough. Bucky's hand slid slowly down his side to rest on his waist. He felt a finger slip inside his waistband. Steve gasped in surprise, but let it go, digging his fingers into Bucky's shoulder. He felt Bucky's hand slide around to tug at the top button of his pants. Suddenly he froze, his heart pounding. Bucky stopped. For a moment Steve was worried he'd offended him. He started to apologize but Bucky just gave him a soft kiss on the cheek and climbed off of him.

Steve sat up, fixing his shirt. He had been putting Bucky off for months now. He wanted to do more than just kiss, but when the moment came he lost his nerve. He wanted Bucky, but he had no idea what to do. He wasn't really sure what to do with girls either, but at least other people seemed to know. With Bucky, there was no one to ask. Bucky hadn't said anything about it, but Steve worried that if he held out too long Bucky might get frustrated and leave him.

Bucky reached over to where his jacket lay and took a small box out of the pocket. "I should probably give this to you before I do anything else to ruin the night."

Steve eyed the box anxiously. "Did you buy me jewelry?"

"Just open it!" Bucky said, shoving the box into his hand.

Steve opened the lid, relieved to find a watch.

"Happy birthday," Bucky said. "I thought you could use something more grown up."

"Thank you, this is great," Steve said, fastening it on his wrist. It fit perfectly and it wasn't too big for his slender arm. Bucky had clearly put quite a bit of thought into the gift.

"Fireworks are nice this year," Bucky said, putting his arm around Steve's shoulder. Steve leaned against him and watched the colorful explosions over the river.

* * *

Bucky climbed the steps to Steve's apartment and kicked the brick aside to reveal the spare key. He let himself in and found Steve on the sofa drawing. Steve looked at his watch and then at Bucky.

"It's only 5 o'clock," he said. "I thought you worked until 7."

"Nice to see you too, punk," Bucky said, grabbing a bottle of beer out of the ice box. He split it between two glasses and sat down on the sofa beside Steve. "They closed things down a little early," he explained, trying to sounds cheerful. His job had been cutting hours left and right lately and he was starting to worry. If this kept up, he would need to look for something new soon, even if he had to take a pay cut.

"That's been happening a lot lately," Steve observed.

"What are you working on?" Bucky asked. He could tell Steve was concerned, but he didn't want to think about it.

Steve turned the drawing pad around to show him. "A bird I saw in the park today."

"What kind is that?"

Steve shrugged. "I'm not sure."

Bucky took a sip of his beer. "Where's your mom?"

Steve blushed slightly. "She's helping set up for the church bazaar. She said she might be home late."

"Is that so?" Bucky slipped an arm around Steve. They were in the clear for a while at least.

Steve bit his lip tapping his fingers against the sketchbook. Finally he set it aside. Bucky leaned in for a kiss, putting a hand on Steve's shoulder. Slowly he slid his hand down and started to undo the buttons on Steve's shirt. Steve rested a hand lightly on Bucky's thigh. Spurred on by that, Bucky moved his hand slowly up Steve's thigh, gently fondling the bulge between his legs. Steve gasped and arched into his caress. Bucky felt his own pants getting tight as Steve moaned under his touch. His fingers trembling, he reached for the buttons of Steve's pants, waiting for Steve to call him off as he fumbled with them. Bucky undid the last button and slipped his hand inside with a silent cheer. He usually didn't get this far. Steve's fingers dig into his arm as he rubbed his hand against the thin fabric. Hesitantly, he thumbed at the top button of Steve's shorts.

Steve jerked, pushing him away. They looked at each other for a moment. Bucky smiled and withdrew his hand, the moment was past. Steve turned away to fixed his clothes. Grunting in discomfort, Bucky shifted to find a more comfortable position. He lay folded his hands in his lap to cover the bulge in his pants. As Steve's slender fingers worked the buttons of his shirt, Bucky realized that his problem wasn't going to go away on it's own. If he wanted to enjoy the rest of the night, he needed to do something about it.

"I'm kind of sweaty from work," he said. "Mind if I take a quick shower?"

"Go ahead," Steve said. "I'll find a game for us to play."

Bucky closed the door to the bathroom and stripped off his clothes. He turned on the cold water and stepped into the shower. He needed to get control of himself. He had run into this with girls before, but this was different. For Steve, he was willing to wait, but that didn't make it easy. His eyes fell on the fading bite mark from last week. He could tell Steve wanted him, but it was frustrating how rarely he seemed to show it. Just once in awhile, he wished Steve would take the initiative so that he didn't feel like he was forcing him into this.

Bucky looked down at his stubborn erection. The cold water wasn't working. He turned on the hot water and took a hold of himself. He felt like a heel for doing this in Steve's bathroom, but he needed to get it out of his system. Tonight was the furthest he had gotten. He was happy to have that even, but it was frustrating to get so close only to be turned away at the last minute. The thought of Steve's soft skin under his calloused hands made him ache. Remembering the way Steve moaned when Bucky touched him sent shudders through his body. For a moment, Bucky pictured Steve touching himself in this bathroom. He couldn't really imagine his shy innocent friend doing that, but the idea sent him over the edge. He gripped the wall for support as he came.

Bucky stood under the running water for a moment to catch his breath. He turned off the shower and dried off. Steve setting up the Sorry! board on the coffee table when he came out. He sat down on the couch beside Steve.

"So tomorrow is Friday," Steve said. "I was thinking we could-" Bucky cringed. Steve trailed off, his smile slipping.

"Who is she?" he asked stiffly.

Steve had asked Bucky not to sneak around, but he hadn't counted on Steve having a jealous streak. Every time he told him about a girl it seemed to turn into an argument. Bucky felt like a cad for doing it, but if he was going to be with Steve, he needed to be sure this wasn't just a phase. The last thing he wanted to do was end up resenting his best friend.

"Rose MacIntyre," Bucky muttered.

Steve scoffed. "From church? I thought you were done with church girls."

"Only the ones that actually pay attention." Bucky joked, desperate to lighten the mood.

Steve failed to see the humor. He turned his attention to setting up the board. "So that's the sort of thing you look for in a girl?" he asked in a snappish tone.

"Well I'm not interested in going steady with them," Bucky said. "What else is there?"

"You're not going steady with me either," Steve said. "Do whatever you want with her."

"I asked if she had a friend, but she said they were all busy," Bucky said wearily.

"What color do you want to be?" Steve asked, ignoring the comment. Bucky put a hand on his shoulder. Steve shrugged it off.

"Steve," Bucky said firmly. He took Steve's hand. "Are you really ok with this?"

Steve nodded with a look of glum resignation. "Yeah. Go on your date. Have a good time."

"Thanks." Bucky kissed him softly. "I'm green."

"What?" Steve protested. "I wanted to be green!"

"Then you should have said something, punk!" Bucky said, pushing Steve out of the way to grab the pieces out of the box. "Be blue."

Steve smacked him in the arm. "You be blue!"

Bucky paused for a moment. He took Steve's hand and pressed the green pieces into it. "Ok, I'll be blue,"

Steve rested his other hand lightly on Bucky's cheek and kissed him softly. The kiss ended and Steve put his pieces on the board before settling back to snuggled under Bucky's arm.

* * *

Bucky took his lunch box out of his locker and sat down wiggling the feeling back into his toes. The next time he had a little extra money, he would need to get a new pair of shoes. The ones he had were starting to hurt his feet. He should have replaced them last month, but he wanted to have the watch paid off in time for Steve's birthday. It had set him back a bit, but it had been worth it to see the smile on Steve's face. He looked in his lunch box to see what his mom had packed, but before he could unwrap it, his supervisor came walking towards him.

"Barnes," he said solemnly. "The boss needs to see you."

Bucky felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He closed his lunch box and headed across the factory floor to Mr. Warren's office. He tried not to jump to conclusions, but he had seen a lot of men go in there lately and come out looking like they had been handed a death sentence. He knocked on the door and the secretary waved him in.

"Barnes, right?" she said, not looking up from her magazine. "Go on in."

Bucky took a breath and opened the door. "You wanted to see me Mr. Warren?"

The man behind the desk looked up and waved him in. "Barnes, yes. Have a seat," He folded his hands as Bucky settled into the chair. "I'm sorry to have to do this, but we have to let you go."

Bucky felt as though he had been punched in the gut, but he tried to compose himself. "Can I ask why, sir?"

"The company has hit a rough patch and we need to cut back expenses," Mr. Warren explained. "You're a good worker and I'll be happy to give you a recommendation, but we can't afford to keep you on. I'm sorry."

Bucky nodded. "I understand."

"You're a smart man, you'll land on your feet," Mr. Warren assured him. "You can work out the week and collect your check from Mary on Friday."

Bucky stood and shook Mr. Warren's hand, uncertain what to say. He was angry, but causing a scene wasn't going to help. The best thing he could do was part on good terms and hope something else opened up soon. He was still living with his parents so he didn't have worry about paying the bills, but he would never get on his feet if he couldn't keep a job. He would just have to start over and look for something else.

"Bad news?" the secretary asked as he passed. Bucky paused. He had never spoken to her much, Mr. Warren always discouraged them from talking to the female employees, but he wasn't going to be here much longer.

"Got let go," he told her.

"That's too bad," she said. "I'll miss seeing your big strong arms around here." She winked at him.

Bucky eyed her carefully. She was a bit forward, but he was in a sour mood and he could use someone a little forward. After this he was going to have to tighten his belt for a while. He might as well enjoy himself while he could. "I don't suppose you're free Friday night?"

"I could be," she said coyly. She took a piece of paper and wrote something down. She folded it and handed it to Bucky. "If you drop by here at 7, I might be around."

Bucky grinned and tucked the note carefully into a pocket. "I might see you then."

With a bit of a spring back in his step Bucky went back to finish his lunch. He might be out of a job, but he had a date. He decided not to tell Steve about this one until after. For once, he just wanted to have an evening out without it turning into a big argument. Steve swore that he was fine with Bucky dating, but every time he did, it sent Steve into a jealous snit. Losing his job was stressful enough. Sometimes it was fun not to have to worry about keeping someone happy beyond the end of the night.

Sighing, Bucky sat down and opened his lunch box. His problems could wait. He had a ham sandwich to eat.

* * *

Friday night, Steve sat at the kitchen table drawing the bowl of fruit in front of him. It wasn't how he wanted to spend the evening, but Bucky was busy. Steve looked at his paper and realized that he had been retracing the same line. He set the sketch book aside. He was too distracted to work on this right now. Bucky had been acting strangely all week and he couldn't put his finger on why. The couple of times they had seen each other, he had barely said anything. Steve wondered if it might have something to do with their argument last week, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it was something more.

"Steve," his mother said firmly. Steve realized she had been calling his name for a minute.

"Sorry, what?" he said.

"Are you going to sit around here all night moping?" she chided. "Why don't you go out to a movie." She handed him some money.

Steve closed up his sketchbook and went in search of his shoes. He wasn't really in the mood for a movie but he needed to get his mind off Bucky. It might be good to get out of the house at least. He kissed his mother on the cheek and headed down to the theater.

The night air was warm and humid. His shirt clung to him as he walked through the streets. He wondered where Bucky was tonight. He had promised they would spend tomorrow together, but he had been a bit evasive when Steve asked what his plans were. Friday was usually the night Bucky set aside for the girls, but he hadn't mentioned anything. It was possible that he had picked a girl up on the way home from work, but Steve wondered if it had something to do with last week. The way he had snapped at Bucky over Rose McIntyre had been uncalled for. He had been the one to insist that Bucky tell him about the girls he was seeing and he had no right to get upset with Bucky for doing exactly what he had asked. If he wasn't careful Bucky would start sneaking around on him just to avoid an argument. Bucky was still his best friend and he still wanted to be the person Bucky told everything to, even things he didn't want to hear.

Steve arrived at the theater and checked the marquee. The film didn't look particularly interesting, it was something with Shirley Temple, but he wasn't in the mood to pay much attention anyway. At least the music would be cheerful. As he headed to the back of the line to buy a ticket he saw Bucky coming out of the theater with a girl on his arm. Steve froze, feeling his chest constrict. He had been right. He had pushed too far and now Bucky was hiding things from him. They turned down the street, away from Steve. On a whim, Steve followed. His head was screaming at him to go back and enjoy the movie, but his feet wouldn't listen.

Steve came around the corner and saw Bucky and the girl waiting to cross the street. She took a hold of his tie and pulled him down to kiss him. Steve clenched his fist, trying to contain his anger. Bucky was dating, they had agreed to that, but he still didn't like seeing it. She leaned over to fix his tie, letting her hand linger on his chest and fall down to brush the front of his pants, as if by accident. Steve gritted his teeth. He couldn't take it anymore. He had agreed to let Bucky date, but he wasn't about to let this shameless harlot have him.

"Hey Bucky!" he called.

Bucky turned to him with a panicked expression. He looked around for an escape but there was no where to go. Steve walked over to them. The girl eyed him with a predatory stare, almost as though she could sense that they were in competition. She stroked Bucky's jaw with a gloved finger.

"Well, aren't you going to introduce me?" she asked, pressing her bouncy breast against Bucky's arm.

Bucky glared at Steve for a second before turning back to his date. "Steve this is Mary. Mary this is my best pal Steve."

Steve shook her hand politely, gripping it a bit more firmly than was necessary. She gave him an appraising glance and turned her attention back to Bucky.

"We were going for a drink. Want to join us?" she asked.

Bucky shook his head but Mary reached her hand down to rest on Bucky's ass. Steve wanted to break it. He would be damned if he was going to let this floozy rub all over Bucky like a bitch in heat.

"One drink wouldn't hurt," he said.

"Great," Bucky said through clenched teeth. He turned to Mary. "Hey, can you just give us a minute?"

"Sure, I'm going to step over here and call my roommate Alice. I think she might like your friend here." She winked at Steve as she left. Steve stared back at her flatly.

Bucky smiled until she was out of sight and turned to Steve, fuming. "What the hell? Who said you could come along?"

"She invited me," Steve shrugged innocently. "And if she's going to get me a date too, it would be rude to run off."

"Look, you said you were ok with this," Bucky whispered sharply.

"And you said you weren't going to go behind my back," Steve retorted.

"I was going to tell you tomorrow! And anyway, that doesn't give you permission to barge in and get in the way!"

"I won't be if Alice comes," Steve said. "Maybe I'll make out with her in the middle of the street too."

Bucky started to respond, but they heard the clack of Mary's heels. Bucky threw up his hands. "Fine, but we're going to talk about this tomorrow," he promised.

Steve glowered at him as Mary approached. "If you'd told me about it yesterday, we wouldn't have to."

* * *

The bar was empty for a Friday night. The only other people there were a few drunks who looked like they never left, but the place could have been packed for all Steve noticed. His attention was on Mary and Bucky. He sat on the opposite side of the booth from them nursing a cheap whiskey. Mary had said that her friend was on the way, but Steve didn't think he wanted to meet any friends of hers. He wanted to put as much distance between them as possible, but he wasn't leaving without Bucky.

"You're a boxer?" Mary gushed as Bucky finished recounting the story of his championship match that spring. Her hand was out of sight under the table but Steve was pretty sure it was on Bucky's thigh.

"You should come watch me some time," Bucky suggested.

"Sounds swell," Mary cooed, running a finger down Bucky's arm. "I love a big strong man."

Steve clench his hand around his glass. He threw back the rest of his drink, ignoring the burn.

"I'm ready for another," he said, sliding out of the booth. He couldn't watch any more of this. If she touched Bucky one more time, he was going to reach over there and break her fingers. He hurried over to the bar and slapped his glass down on the counter. "Whiskey, please."

The bartender looked at him, probably wondering if he was even old enough to drink, but turned around to get the bottle. Bucky came up to stand beside him.

"Make it two," he said. He waited for the man to pour the drinks and took a careful sip as he waited for him to leave. "You seem a little agitated over there. Not being your usual dour self."

"I don't like the way she's acting," Steve confessed, finishing his drink in one swallow.

"Really?" Bucky said with a cocky grin. "Because I kind of do?"

Steve glared at him darkly. The whiskey had done nothing to dull his anger. "She's a total sharecrop."

"Steve you're being a pill," Bucky said. "We agreed that this was for the best, remember?"

Steve glanced around quickly and pushed Bucky into the bathroom, locking the door.

"I don't want her to have you," he said. He knew he was being selfish, but he didn't care anymore. He wasn't going to let Bucky go without a fight, especially not to some painted tramp.

Bucky studied him carefully. "What are you saying Steve?"

"I don't know, Bucky," Steve said, exasperated. "I just know that if you go out there and kiss her again, I'm probably going to hit her!"

Bucky stepped in close and kissed Steve. "There, better?"

"A little. But you've been kissing her too." It helped, but he still didn't like having to share Bucky. He wanted to be special, not just another number in Bucky's little black book.

"Well here's something I don't do with her." Bucky reached down and started to undo Steve's pants. Steve's mouth went dry as he watched Bucky's fingers nimbly worked the buttons. He was surprised to realize that he wanted Bucky to keep going this time. Maybe it was the whiskey, or maybe it was the girl, but he wanted to feel Bucky touch.

Bucky's hands were warm as he took a hold of Steve. Steve moaned softly, grabbing onto Bucky's shoulders to steady himself. Bucky looked down for a moment as though trying to decide what to do. Finally he sank down to his knees. Steve watch curiously, wondering what Bucky had in mind. Bucky looked up at him and put his mouth around the head of Steve's cock, sucking gently. Surprised, Steve wanted to protest, but it felt incredible. He didn't think he would ever want to kiss Bucky again after this, but it felt amazing. Steve put a hand against the wall as Bucky took more of him in. He bucked his hips slightly, thrusting into Bucky's mouth. Bucky pulled away coughing.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, went too deep," he said. "I've never done this before."

"I should hope not," Steve said as Bucky's mouth slid back over his cock. He bit his lip to stifle a moan, remembering that they were in a public bathroom. The risk of getting caught was high, even with the door locked, but the danger was arousing. If he had known that Bucky could make him feel like this, he probably would have given in sooner. In no time, Steve was ready to burst.

"Bucky, I'm gonna crack my marbles," he panted breathlessly. Bucky took his mouth away with a wet smack and stood up. He turned Steve around toward the urinal and reached around to grab him from behind. Steve put his hands on the wall for support as Bucky's powerful hand wrapped around him. Bucky leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"I'm going to date around like we agreed," Bucky said, as he stroked Steve's swollen erection. "But every time you see me kissing a girl you can think about where my mouth has been."

"I'm going to think about it every time you kiss me," Steve moaned, leaning his head back against Bucky's strong chest. He started to cry out, but Bucky put a hand over his mouth to muffle the noise.

"Good," he said. His voice sent a shiver through Steve as he came. For a moment he stood there, leaning back against Bucky for support. His knees felt like jelly and he was breathing hard like he had just run a mile. When he regained his footing, Bucky helped him clean up and fix his clothes.

"So what does this mean?" Steve asked as Bucky washed his hands. He dried them off and leaned heavily on the sink.

"I think it means I've had one too many," Bucky joked.

"Bucky," Steve admonished him.

"I don't know." Bucky turned to him and shrugged. "I guess it means I don't want you to give up on me yet."

He leaned in to kiss Steve. Steve pushed him away. "You're going to have to brush your teeth before I let you do that again." Steve said.

Bucky grinned. "What if I just gargle some whiskey?"

Steve rolled his eyes.

"Alright, if she asks what we were doing, you were throwing up," Bucky said unlocking the door. They stepped out of the bathroom. Bucky looked around, but Mary was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey mister," he said to the bartender. "Did you see the girl I came in here with?"

"Yeah, her friend showed up with a couple of fat cats and they left. Didn't even buy a drink."

"Son of a bitch," Bucky muttered.

Steve hid a smile and led Bucky over to the bar. "Two whiskeys."

* * *

Bucky finished his drink and waved to the bartender to pour another. Steve sat beside him nursing the same one he had been on an hour ago. Bucky was on his fourth. Aside from their tryst in the bathroom, this week had been a complete bust. He was going to drink until he was unconscious or broke, whichever came first.

"So are you gonna tell me what's wrong?" Steve asked.

"What do you mean?" Bucky slurred as the bartender refilled his glass.

"You've been acting weird all week."

Bucky swirled the whiskey in his glass and took a sip. "I lost my job. Nothing I did, they just couldn't afford to keep everyone."

"When did that happen?"

"Tuesday," Bucky confessed.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Steve asked.

"I don't know," Bucky sighed. "I was hoping maybe I could find something before the end of the week and I wouldn't have to."

Steve fiddled with his watch. "Do you need this back?"

"No," Bucky said firmly. "It was a gift. I'm living with my folks, I'm not going to starve." Bucky finished his drink. "I'm sorry about tonight. I just needed to go out and blow off some steam."

"And you picked her?" Steve said in a snide tone.

Bucky laughed. "She seemed easy and I didn't feel like working for it."

Steve looked at his glass nervously.

Bucky let out a frustrated sighed. "Christ Steve, I didn't mean it like that."

"How did you mean it?" Steve whispered sharply.

"It's been over a year and I'm still hanging around!" Bucky whispered. "That has to tell you something!"

Steve finished his drink and stood up. "Yeah, it tells me you've had enough. Let's get you home."

Bucky stood up and stumbled. Steve caught him, supporting Bucky as best he could.

"We're going to my place," he said, grunting under Bucky's weight. "I don't think I can carry you all the way to yours."

As they staggered down the sidewalk, Bucky pushed Steve into an alley and pinned him against the wall. He leaned in to kiss Steve, but Steve turned away and his lips found Steve's neck.

"God Bucky, you're soused!"

Bucky leaned back, swaying a bit as he struggled to keep his balance. "Listen Steve, those girls, they're nothing. They're just a good time. You're the one I'm waiting for. So keep putting me off if you want, I'm gonna keep asking."

Bucky leaned in to kiss Steve. Suddenly he gagged and pushed Steve aside, puking on the brick wall.

"Geez, there goes two dollars!" he said. He heaved a few more times until his stomach was empty.

Steve rubbed his back. "We need to get you to bed pal."

"Yeah," Bucky moaned. "I think I feel a little better though."

Steve laughed. "Promise me you'll drink whiskey every time you go out with a dame."

* * *

Bucky awoke the next morning on the floor of Steve's bedroom. His head was pounding. Steve was gone, but he smelled coffee and bacon in the kitchen. Groaning, he tried to remember how much he had had to drink before Steve pushed him into the bathroom. He hoped Steve wasn't too upset with him. He wasn't even sure what had possessed him to do it. Rose McIntyre had done it to him a couple weeks ago, although she had done a much better job. She had sworn it was her first time, but he was pretty sure now that she had lied about that.

Slowly, he stood up and staggered into the kitchen. Steve was standing in front of the stove in his bathrobe, cooking something in the heavy skillet.

"Steve?"

"Hey, I was just coming to wake you up." Steve said, keeping his attention back to the stove.

"Sorry about last night," he muttered. "I need to lay off the whiskey. Your mom around? I should probably apologize."

"She left for her shift already. I wouldn't worry about it. She was more worried than anything."

Bucky sat down at the table. "Ugh, I feel like someone vomited in my head."

Steve brought him a glass of water and a cup of coffee. "It was probably you." He brought the food to the table and set a plate down in front of Bucky. "How much do you remember about yesterday?"

"If you mean do I remember tongue lapping you, yes. I think I was mostly sober for that." He looked at Steve nervously. "I didn't go too far, did I?"

"No," Steve said softly, not meeting his eyes. His cheeks were bright red, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "If fact, if you want to do it again, I'd be ok with that."

"Ugh," Bucky groaned, rubbing his face. "I don't think I can't right now."

Steve smacked him on the shoulder. "Not right now, fathead! I don't want you to puke on me."

Bucky nodded, nibbling at his toast. "So, if I suck your candystick, does that make me your girlfriend?"

"You're not my girlfriend." Steve assured him, spreading some jam on his toast.

"Good," he mumbled.

"What was it like?" Steve asked.

"I almost choked a few times," Bucky admitted. He hadn't realized just how big Steve was. Rose had managed to take him all the way in without gagging. He was sure now that she had lied about that being her first time.

"But you'd do it again?" Steve asked.

"If you liked it."

Steve bit his lower lip. "I feel kind of bad that I didn't do anything for you."

Bucky reached over to take Steve's hand. "I did that for you because I wanted to. You don't have to do anything just because I did."

"What if I want to?" Steve asked. His voice was quiet yet there was an impish look in his eye. He reached over and ran a finger under the waistband of Bucky's shorts. His hands were shaking. "Take these off."

"Steve we're in the middle of your kitchen," Bucky said.

"Mom won't be back for hours." Steve told him. He was trying to sound bold, but his voice trembled. "You got to see me, I want to see you."

"You've seen me naked before," Bucky teased.

"In the shower. I never actually got to look," he mumbled. "I want to touch you. All those girls get to."

"Steve, I don't know how many girls you think I've been with-"

"Well then tell me." Steve pressed.

"Three," Bucky said. "Most of them won't even let me hold their hand. It's just three."

"Is where you learned to, um," Steve trailed off and glanced down at his crotch.

Bucky grinned. "Still mad I went out with Rose?"

"A little," Steve grumbled. He traced a finger down the flap of Bucky's shorts. "So really, only three girls have touched this before?"

Bucky moaned softly. The pounding in his head seemed to ease as Steve's gentle touch sent a shiver through him.

"Come on, take them off," Steve urged, undoing one of the buttons.

Bucky could hear a hint of excitement in his voice. He felt a small thrill seeing Steve take charge like this. So much of their relationship thus far had been Bucky's doing. He needed to know that Steve was in this with him. He stood up and slid his shorts off. Steve stared, uncertain what to do next.

"Are you just going to look at it all day?" Bucky asked. A wave of dizziness forced him to sit back down. He let his legs fall open to give Steve a good view. Licking his lips, Steve reached out and gave him a soft, timid stroke.

"Oh come on, you can do better than that," Bucky taunted. Steve took a deep breath and removed his bathrobe. He knelt on the floor between Bucky's legs and stared intently. He reached between Bucky's thighs to touch his balls. Bucky moaned and arched into Steve' hand. Surprised, Steve drew back.

"Do that again," Bucky prompted.

Steve reached down again and cupped his balls gently, squeezing them slightly in his thin fingers. With his other hand he stroked Bucky's growing erection, trailing his fingers lightly down the shaft before gripping it firmly in his hand. Bucky shuddered. He couldn't imagine a girl doing this as well as Steve was.

"You're good at this," he said. "Have been practicing on yourself? Thinking about me when you're in the shower?"

Steve blushed and looked away.

"I think about you," Bucky continued. "And now I'm going to think about how your hand feels on me."

Steve turned bright red, but Bucky's words seemed to stir something in him. He stroked Bucky's cock with increased vigor. Bucky dug his fingers into Steve's shoulder, biting his lip to keep from crying out as Steve continued. He rubbed his fingers over the tip of Bucky's cock and back down the length, repeating the motion a few times. Bucky cried out and arched into it, shooting off all over Steve's hand. Panting for breath, he leaned back in the chair, running a hand through his hair.

"Anytime you want to do that again, just let me know," Bucky said.

Steve looked at the sticky fluid covering his fingers. He brought his hand up to his nose and sniffed it, then touched it to his tongue. The sight was gross and arousing at the same time.

"It's not as bad as I thought it would be," Steve said, licking a few drops off his fingers. He went to the sink to wash the rest off.

Bucky put his shorts back on and sat back in the chair, taking a sip of coffee. Steve cinched his bathrobe tightly to cover himself as much as possible. Bucky chuckled. That shyness was going to take a while to wear off. Steve refilled Bucky's mug and sat down on the other side of the table. They ate their breakfast in silence.

* * *

Steve was finishing up the dishes when Bucky came out of the shower, his hair still damp. Steve kept his attention on the pan he was scrubbing. The rest of breakfast had been awkward, and he was still a bit surprised that he had found the courage to do that.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

"A little. Please don't ever let me drink like that again," Bucky pleaded.

Steve laughed. "I don't think I could have stopped you." He set the pan in the drying rack. "So what are you going to do about work?"

Bucky shrugged. "Something will come along."

Steve turned toward him. "Why didn't you tell me?" He had asked that last night, but Bucky hadn't been in a fit state of mind to give him a straight answer. This was the first time Bucky had kept something from him and if they were going to continue whatever they were doing, it needed to be the last.

Bucky shrugged. "I don't know, I just didn't want to worry you."

"You didn't tell me about the girl, either," Steve reminded him.

"Can you blame me?" Bucky asked. "You looked ready to claw her eyes out."

"You used to tell me everything." Steve said. Bucky had never worried about upsetting him before. When things weren't going right, he used to be the first person Bucky would come to for advice. The line between friendship and romance had become blurred in a way that worried Steve.

Bucky was quiet for a minute. "Steve, are you ok with what we're doing?" he asked finally.

"Well, it felt pretty good," Steve said blushing.

"Not that," Bucky said. "I mean are you really ok with me seeing other people.

"No," Steve confessed. He had tried to put on a brave face, but if he wanted the truth from Bucky he owed him the same. "I don't like seeing you out with anyone else. I'm still going to let you do it and I still want to know, but I'm not happy about it. I don't think it would bother me as much if I could get a date once in a whie, but I get tired of sitting at home alone on Friday night."

"Well I won't be dating anyone until I get a new job," Bucky said. "But from now on if I take a girl out I'll get her to find you a friend."

Steve smiled. "You'll never get a girl doing that."

Bucky put his arms around Steve. "I mean it. I need you to be patient with me, but I don't want to lose you. You're special."

"Well, if you can wait for me, I'll wait for you." Steve punched Bucky in the arm. "And no more keeping secrets. I'm your best friend, tell me everything."

"Well I can tell you that we'll go going to the museum a lot until I find a new job," Bucky joked.

Steve grinned. "Well I don't mind paying for a while as long as you put out."

"Oh you think I'm that easy?" Bucky said, feigning insult.

"Yeah I do," Steve said, standing on his toes for a kiss.

"You're probably right," Bucky mumbled as their lips met.

 **-End-**

A/N: Share-crop, promiscuous woman.

Thanks everyone for reading! This one got a little risque and that will pop up occasionally as things progress, but I strive to keep the smut plot related. Let me know what you think. Thank you to my guest reviewers!

Sakura: Don't worry, I have big plans for this. Plenty more to come.

Andy: Glad you like it! I'll try not to be too long with the updates, but gems take time to form. ;)


	5. Dancing at a Funeral

**Dancing at a Funeral**

 _-Brooklyn, Fall 1936-_

The day was crisp and sunny, but a cloud hung over Steve and Bucky as they walked slowly back to Steve's apartment. They were all still in shock over Mrs. Rogers' death. She had worked in the TB ward of the hospital for years, then in a matter of months, she was gone. It had been a quick illness and Steve had postponed art school to take care of her the last few months once it became clear how serious things were. Knowing she would die had not made it any easier for him to bear.

"We looked for you after," Bucky said as they trudge up the stairs to Steve's apartment. "My folks wanted to give you a ride to the cemetery."

"I know, I'm sorry, it's," Steve took a breath. "I kind of wanted to be alone."

"How was it?" Bucky asked. It was a dumb thing to say, but there wasn't really much to be said.

Steve shrugged. "It's ok, she's next to Dad."

Bucky took a deep breath. "I was gonna ask-"

"I know what you're gonna say Bucky," Steve cut in. "It's just-"

"We can put the couch cushions on the floor like when we were kids," Bucky continued as Steve frantically search for his key. "It'll be fun. All you have to do is shine my shoes, maybe take out the trash."

He kicked aside the brick by the railing and picked up the spare. "Come on," he said, handing it to Steve.

"Thank you, Buck," Steve said. "But I can get by on my own."

"The thing is, you don't have to." Bucky put a hand on Steve's shoulder. "I'm with you 'til the end of the line."

Steve looked down at the key in his hand, smiling. Bucky could see him trying to think of a reason to say no.

Bucky clapped him firmly on the back. "Look, you don't have to decide anything right now. Take a few days, think it over."

Steve nodded. "You want to come in for a minute?"

Bucky followed Steve into the kitchen. It felt strange knowing that Mrs. Rogers would never be back. He couldn't let Steve stay in this apartment alone. Problem was, Steve was stubborn enough to try. However long it took, whatever he had to do, Steve was going to come home with him.

"Can I get you something?" Bucky looked around at the plates of food the neighbors had brought over. Half of it would go bad before Steve could eat it.

Steve shook his head. "I'm not hungry."

"You haven't been hungry for a week." Bucky cut a piece of pound cake and spread some jam on it. "Eat, before you fall over."

Steve sat down and nibbled halfheartedly at the cake. Bucky watched him carefully, trying to think of what to say, but all that came to mind was to ask was what he planned to do now. Steve was so overwhelmed right now, he couldn't even decide what to eat from the smorgasbord of food in his kitchen. Talking about the future would just upset him, talking about the past would too. Bucky felt completely useless. His best friend was in pain and he couldn't think of any way to make it better. He stood up and turned on the radio to fill the silence.

Steve finished off the cake and sat there, staring at the empty plate. Bucky held out a hand. "Do you want to dance?"

Steve took his hand and let Bucky lead him to the middle of the floor. Suddenly Steve collapsed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Bucky held him tightly, tears soaking into his shirt as the music played on.

* * *

Steve finally caught his breath. He wasn't sure where that had come from. For days now he had just been numb. He hadn't felt hungry or tired or sad, he had just been focused on getting through the day, getting through the funeral planning, getting through the wake, getting through the service, getting through the burial, getting home. Now he was through it and there was nothing left. His mother was gone and there was nothing left to distract him from the emptiness of the apartment. Only now did he finally feel any of it. He clung to Bucky, nestling his head against Bucky's strong shoulder. All day he had been standing tall, determined not to be an object of pity. Now he felt as though if Bucky weren't holding him he would collapse.

"Maybe you should sit down and have a glass of water," Bucky suggested, leading Steve over to the table.

Steve suddenly felt an intense hunger, but not for any of the food piled in the kitchen. He wanted Bucky. Steve grabbed Bucky's tie, pulling him into a voracious kiss. He slipped the knot loose and yanked at Bucky's tear stained shirt, almost popping the buttons off in his haste.

"Woah slow down," Bucky said pushing him back. "You've had a long day."

"I know," Steve growled, kissing Bucky's neck. "And I just want you to make me forget about it."

Bucky pushed him back again, holding him firmly. "You're not thinking straight. You were up all night and you've barely eaten in days. You need to have a sandwich and take a nap."

Steve tugged Bucky's shirt off and pulled him close again. "I don't want to sleep, or eat cake or cry about this anymore," he said in a sultry growl, punctuating his words with a trail of kissed down Bucky's neck. "I just want to feel your hands on me."

Again Bucky held him back. "I don't want to do anything you're going to regret in the morning."

He kissed Steve gently on the forehead. Steve pushed the hem of Bucky's shirt up to his neck, sucking gently at one of his nipples. He didn't care about tomorrow. For all he knew, it would never come. He needed to lose himself in the warmth of Bucky's embrace. He sank his teeth possessively into Bucky's shoulder. That broke the last of Bucky's resistance. He tugged off the shirt and picked Steve up, laying him down on the table. Hastily, he unbuttoned Steve's shirt and then his pants, stripping them off in one deft motion.

Bucky leaned over him, his weight pinning Steve to the table as he licked Steve's ear. Steve moaned as the rough fabric of Bucky's pants rubbed against him. He arched his back, digging his fingers into Bucky's bare shoulders. Bucky laid a trail of kisses down his stomach, finally taking him into his mouth. Steve moaned, his head falling back against the solid wood as Bucky's tongue swirled around the head of his cock.

"Bucky!" he screamed, not caring if the neighbors heard. It had been weeks since they had been together and just the feel of Bucky's tongue on him was almost enough to send him over the edge. He came quickly, shooting off into Bucky's mouth. Bucky gagged a bit, but swallowed it without complaint. He looked up at Steve with a cocky grin.

"How was that?"

Steve pushed himself up to sit on the table. He grabbed the back of Bucky's head and pulled him in for a kiss. It would take him a few minutes to recover, but he wasn't going to be satisfied so easily today.

"We have the house to ourselves," he said, tugging at the top button of Bucky's pants. "No need to be shy." It occurred to Steve what a dark thought that was, but he didn't care, he just wanted Bucky to tongue lap him until he forgot his own name.

He worked the buttons on Bucky's pants and shorts. Bucky kicked them off. Steve took a moment to drink in the sight of his naked body before Bucky pushed him back down to the table, lying on top of him. Bucky ran a hand up between his leg, squeezing his balls lightly. He writhed under Bucky's touch, feeling himself start to respond. Suddenly a finger pressed into him. He flinched, pushing Bucky away.

"What are you doing?" he asked, surprised.

Bucky shrugged sheepishly. "I heard the guys at the gym talking about doing this with their girlfriends. If you do it right, supposedly it feels really good."

"What kind of guys go to your gym?" Steve asked.

"Just trust me," Bucky said, his usual cocky smile returning. He kissed Steve softly. "I want to make love to you Steve. I want you to be the first."

"And you have to go in the back door for that?" Steve asked, still unsure about the whole idea.

"Unless you can think of another way," Bucky whispered, nibbling at his earlobe.

Steve swallowed, feeling himself stiffen again as Bucky's tongue lapped at his throat. He had been throwing himself at Bucky a minute ago, but he hadn't quite expected to end up here. Still, it was Bucky. He didn't want to think right now, he just wanted Bucky to distract him from everything that had happened.

"Seems like it would hurt," he sighed feebly as Bucky rubbed a thumb across his nipple.

"I'll be gentle," Bucky promised.

"Ok," Steve acquiesced. A little pain might distract him from what he was feeling. Bucky put his mouth around Steve's cock, sucking gently as he pushed a finger inside. Steve clenched at the discomfort. Suddenly, Bucky pulled away.

"Shit, I forgot," he said. "I need some sort of oil of or something." He ran to the cabinets and started looking through them. He took out the cannister of Crisco. "I guess this'll do."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, don't worry," Bucky said quickly.

Steve frowned. "You have no idea what you're doing, do you?"

"Would you be happy if I did?" Bucky asked, scooping out a glob of Crisco.

"I guess not," Steve confessed.

Bucky pressed his lips together, staring at him with intense concentration. "Um, stand up. Turn around and bend over the table."

Steve slid off and turned around, planting his hands firmly on the table for support.

"Ready?" Bucky asked, kissing the back of his neck. Steve nodded, taking a deep breath as Bucky pressed a greasy finger inside of him. Steve clenched around it. Bucky stopped, gripping Steve's lift with his other hand. "You gotta relax. If I can't even get a finger in there how is there going to be room for my hambone?"

Steve tried to relax as Bucky's warm fingers stroked him in a slow, steady rhythm. He worked his fingers in carefully. It was strange and a little uncomfortable, but it was Bucky. He wanted Bucky and if Bucky wanted to put the boots to him, he would give it a try. Suddenly he gasped in pleasure as Bucky's fingers brushed something inside of him.

Bucky stopped. "What? Did I hurt you?"

"No!" Steve said. "Do that again!" Bucky felt around, trying to figure out what Steve meant. He brushed against the spot again. "That!"

Bucky rubbed his fingers around the spot. Steve moaned and gripped the edges of the table as he convulsed under Bucky's touch. "Oh God, Bucky!" he screamed as he came.

Bucky gaped at him. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know," Steve said breathlessly, turning around to sit on the table until his legs stopped quivering. "It felt good."

Bucky kissed him. "You ok to keep going?"

Steve nodded. "After that, you could probably shove the fat part of a wooden spoon up my ass and I'd be ok with it," he joked.

"Ok, let me know if I hurt you." Bucky pushed him back to lie on the table and leaned over to kiss his neck. Steve took a deep slow breath, trying to relax as Bucky slid inside. It wasn't painful, but it was an odd sensation. He reached for Bucky's hand interlacing their fingers.

"Is it ok?" Bucky whispered.

"It feels weird," Steve replied. It wouldn't help anything to lie. "It doesn't hurt, but it's just weird."

"Maybe it'll get better if you just just it a minute." Bucky said hopefully.

Steve nodded. He focused on breathing as Bucky thrust slowly in and out of him. It did start to feel better, even good by the time Bucky had built up a good rhythm. Bucky kissed him furiously, his hand clenching Steve's tightly. Steve clung tightly to him, digging his fingers into Bucky's arm. Finally, Bucky arched back, crying out as he came, thrusting into Steve a few more times before he sagged forward, leaning against the table to catch his breath. He gave Steve a slow, deep kiss and sank into the chair beside the table.

An awkward silence fell over them as Steve sat up, clutching his shirt tightly around him. He suddenly felt exposed as though he was realizing for the first time that he was naked on the kitchen table. He looked over at Bucky, not certain what had come over him earlier. Bucky was right, he needed a nap.

"I'm going to clean up," he said. "Are you staying over?"

"Do you want me to?" Bucky asked in a timorous voice.

Steve stood and gathered his clothes, clutching them tightly. "Well you're not going to fuck me and leave, I can tell you that," he muttered as he hurried off to the bathroom.

* * *

The light was fading outside as Bucky sat at the kitchen table eating a piece of cake. The afternoon had taken an unexpected turn. Steve had seemed bewildered after they finished and Bucky worried that he might have gone to far. He should have help off, but Steve had practically stripped him and there was only so much a man could resist.

Steve came out of the bedroom dressed in his pajamas and bathrobe. His hair was still damp. More than anything, he looked tired.

"Hey," Bucky said softly. "You ok? You were in there for a while."

Steve yawned, rubbing his neck. "I decided to take a bath. What is there to eat? I'm starving."

Bucky stood and opened the refrigerator. He took out the ham that Mrs. Carson had brought and carved off a few slices. He found some cheese and bread and made Steve a sandwich.

"Mustard?" he asked.

"Please."

Bucky finished the sandwich and poured Steve a glass of milk, setting them on the table. Steve dove in, devouring the sandwich in a matter of minutes. He belched and sat back in the chair.

"Did you leave me any cookies?"

Bucky reached for the red tin on the counter. "I think there's sugar and oatmeal."

Steve took a cookie out and dunked it into the glass of milk. He nibbled it slowly. Bucky could see tears glistening in his eyes.

"Steve, I want you to come home with me tomorrow," Bucky said.

Steve finished his cookie, shaking his head. "I appreciate it, Bucky, but I don't want to impose."

"You're not imposing," Bucky insisted. "I'm going to worry about you here all by yourself, you'd be doing me a favor."

"I can get by on my own," Steve told him again.

Bucky let out an aggravated sigh. "I know you can, but dammit you don't have to! Let me help!"

Steve shook his head. "I can't think about that right now Buck," he said. "I just want to go to bed."

Bucky leaned over and kissed him. He wasn't going to win this argument tonight. "Look, you don't have to decide anything right now. Just promise me you'll think about it."

Steve nodded. "I will," he said. "Thank you."

Bucky stood and held out his hand. "Can you dance?"

Steve took his hand, wincing a bit as he let Bucky help him up. "I'll manage."

Bucky led him to the middle of the floor and turned on the radio. Steve put his hand on Bucky's shoulder, not waiting for him to ask who was going to lead. Bucky rested his hand on Steve's back as the familiar as a familiar song started to play.

" _Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with you,_

 _Let me hear you whisper, that you love me too._

 _Keep the love light glowing in your eyes so blue_

 _Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with you."_

"So does this make me your girl?" Steve asked.

"Steve, nothing we do will ever make you my girl," Bucky assured him. "What if I just call you my Sweetheart?"

Steve laid his head on Bucky's shoulder as the music played on. "I guess that'll do."

 **-End-**

A/N: I don't know if Crisco would make a good lube or not, probably not, but the whole point is that neither does Bucky and he's just doing the best he can with what's available.

Two in one week! Don't get used to that! Happy Thanksgiving to those in the US. Sorry for the super depressing chapter right before a holiday. Let me know what you think of the story so far. I'd love to hear from you guys. Thanks for reading!


	6. No Place Like Home For the Holidays

**No Place Like Home For the Holidays**

 _-Brooklyn, November 1936-_

Steve opened the door to his apartment and hung his coat on the rack beside the door. The apartment was dark and quiet. For a moment, Steve considered skipping dinner and just going straight to bed. It had been two months since his mother died. The landlord had given him until the end of the year to figure out what to do, but he knew he couldn't afford to stay. His mother's funeral and hospital bills had drained their savings and he barely had enough left for art school. He had taken a job as an assistant in a book store. It didn't pay much, but it was quiet and the owner let him draw when there were no customers. He could get by, but he would have to find somewhere cheaper to live.

Bucky had offered to let him stay with his family, but after what had happened between them, Steve wasn't sure that was a good idea. Bucky's offer had touched him deeply, but he wasn't ready for the sort of intimacy that living together might entail. They had been dating for over a year but he had kept Bucky at arms length until this summer. After that, everything had happened so fast. Bucky had tried to make him slow down, but Steve had been out of his mind with grief. Now, with the rest of his life falling to pieces around him, it had become just one more thing to worry about.

Hanging up his coat on the rack, Steve turned on the lights and went to the refrigerator to see what there was to eat. It was depressingly bare. He remembered that he had finished off the cheese that morning. The only other thing left was a jar of pickles and a few eggs. He took out two of the eggs, leaving one for breakfast. As he searched for the pot, the door opened and Bucky came in carrying a grocery bag.

"Hi, Sweetheart," he said. "I didn't think you'd be home. I was going to surprise you."

"It was slow, so my boss let me off early," Steve said. "What's all that?"

Bucky started unpacking the bag. "Pork chops."

"Wow," Steve said, awed by the extravagance. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know, but I had a little extra this week and since we can't really afford to go out to dinner, I thought I'd cook."

Steve smirked. "Do you know how?"

"I had Becky show me."

Steve smiled. Bucky was so thoughtful sometimes it killed him. "Do you want some help?"

Bucky kissed him and took a bottle of wine out of the bag. "Open that and you can set the table if you want. Do you have any candles?"

"I think so."

Steve went to the cupboard. He found two white tapers that had only been burned halfway and set them in the silver candle holders. He poured two glasses of wine and set the table while Bucky prepared the food.

"That'll take a few minutes," Bucky said, sliding the pork chops into the oven. He turned on the radio and held out his hand. Steve set down his wine glass and joined Bucky in the middle of the room.

"Thanks for this," Steve said. The last few months had been harder than he wanted to admit, but Bucky always seemed to know when he needed cheering up.

Bucky spun him around. "Well, I thought we could use a break from the museum."

"I like the museum," Steve reminded him.

"I know, but I can't do this in the museum," he leaned in to kiss Steve.

They danced until the timer dinged. Bucky served the food while Steve lit the candles.

"So how's work going?" Bucky asked as they sat down.

"I like it," Steve said. "Mr. Zimmerman said things should pick up during the Christmas season so I can get a few more hours."

"If you're not working this weekend, I have a boxing match on Saturday," Bucky told him, spooning a heap of boiled cabbage onto his plate.

"Sorry," Steve said. "The other assistant is sick and I can't really afford to turn down shifts.".

"Any leads on a new place?"

"Not yet," Steve said wearily, cutting off a piece of pork. It was a bit overcooked, but it was still better than boiled eggs. "Everywhere I can afford isn't somewhere I want to live."

"You can always stay with us if you need to," Bucky offered.

Steve took a sip of his wine. "I appreciate it Bucky," he said for the hundredth time. "But I don't want to impose."

"You wouldn't be," Bucky insisted again. "Imposing would be when you get pneumonia because you're living on the streets in the middle of January."

"I'll figure it out," Steve said sharply

Bucky took a sip of his wine. They had been having this argument for weeks now. Steve knew he wasn't going to give up, but he wouldn't risk ruining the evening after he had gone to so much trouble.

"Any leads on a new job?" Steve asked, trying to settle things down.

"Nothing permanent," Bucky said. "There's lot of odd jobs available this time of year, but nothing that seems to last more than a few days." He refilled Steve's wine.

"What about the factory job?" Steve asked.

"Its picking up," Bucky said. "But there's no guarantee they'll keep me on."

Steve took Bucky's hand. "You'll find something."

They spent the rest of dinner chattering about frivolous things. Bucky told him about a couple of new guys at the gym and Steve told him about the bookstore. When they were done, Steve took the plates to the to the sink and ran the water, waiting for a moment to let it heat up. Bucky set the serving dishes on the counter and wrapped his arms around Steve from behind, kissing his neck. Steve jerked, pulling away from Bucky.

"What is it?" Bucky asked. He sounded a bit hurt.

"Nothing," Steve said. "I'm just tired." It was a lame excuse, but he did seem to be tired a lot lately. Bucky pressed a hand to his forehead with a worried look.

"You're not getting sick are you?"

"No," Steve assured him. After his mother's death, he was worried about contracting tuberculosis and he knew it worried Bucky too, but he felt fine. "I just had a long day."

Bucky took the washcloth. "Go sit down. I'll do this."

"You cooked," Steve said.

"I had the day off," Bucky said. "Go put your feet up and relax."

"Thanks." Steve kissed Bucky on the cheek. He was too sweet for words sometimes. He sat down with his sketch pad and listened to the radio while Bucky finished the dishes. When he was done, Bucky joined Steve on the couch with the rest of the wine and sat there, watching him draw.

* * *

It was the day before Thanksgiving and Steve was hard at work fixing the front window display. Mr. Zimmerman was on a ladder hanging hanging Christmas decorations in preparation for the shopping season. The shop was empty now, but Mr. Zimmerman had told him to expect quite a rush on Friday. For Zimmerman's Bookstore that probably meant that there would be five or six people there at a time. Steve adjusted the books on the front display, replacing a few copies that had been purchased the day before. The bell at the back door rang.

"Steven, would you get that?" Mr. Zimmerman asked. "It's probably the delivery boy."

"Yes sir." Steve set the books down and went to the back. He opened the door to find Bucky there holding a large box. "What are you doing here?"

"Delivery," Bucky said. Steve stepped aside to let him into the store. "One of the guys at my gym works for a supply company and they had some people out sick this week."

Steve stepped aside for Bucky to come in out of the cold. Mr. Zimmerman came back to see what was going on.

"Ah, sehr gut, my wrapping," he said, taking the box from Bucky. "Just time! I was starting to worry!"

"If you could sign here," Bucky said, handing him a clipboard.

Mr. Zimmerman scrawled a signature on the sheet. "Would you like something warm to drink before you go? It's freezing out there!"

"Thanks. That would be great," Bucky said.

"Do you mind if I take my break now?" Steve asked.

"Friend of yours?" Mr. Zimmerman asked. Steve nodded. "Go ahead, I'll manage the mob out there," he said with a jovial wink.

Steve poured them each a cup of coffee and handed one to Bucky. Bucky took his gloves off and wrapped them around the warm mug.

"He seems like a nice guy."

"He is," Steve said.

Bucky glanced around the back room. "I should come in here and look around sometime. I need a Christmas gift for Mom."

"There's a new Agatha Christie novel she'd like," Steve said.

"Oh yeah?" Bucky asked. "Set one aside for me."

"Sure thing, I'll even wrap it for you."

Bucky sipped his coffee and looked around at some of the shelves. "What are these?" he asked taking a book off the shelf. He opened it. "Is this German?"

"Yep, Mr. Zimmermann came over from Germany about 8 months ago. He taught literature at a University over there and he brought a lot of books with him. He said he'd teach me some German."

Bucky slipped the book back onto the shelf. "What do you want to learn that for?"

Steve shrugged. "Why not?"

"I just never saw the point of learning a language of a place you're never going to go," Bucky said.

Steve laughed. "You know Italian."

"No, I know how to curse in Italian because of that chuckle head at the gym." He finished his coffee and handed the cup back to Steve. "Thanks. Oh, Mom wanted you to come over for dinner tonight."

"I'm coming over tomorrow," Steve said.

"Yeah, she said you might as well just sleep over. You were going to come over in the morning anyway."

Steve took a long slow sip of his coffee as he mulled over the idea. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense," he conceded finally.

"Good," Bucky said. "What time do you get off? I'll pick you up?"

"Six."

"I'll tell mom to have dinner at 7," said, pulling his gloves back on. "Tell your boss thanks for the coffee."

Steve returned to his work, as Bucky headed back out into the chilly November air.

* * *

"You're sure your brother doesn't mind?" Steve asked as he helped Bucky make the bed. His little brother was sleeping on the couch in the living room, and Steve was taking the bed.

"He's 12. He's having the time of his life!" Bucky assured him. He had complained for a bit until Bucky had helped him make a blanket fort to camp in. Bucky tucked the sheet under and handed Steve an extra blanket.

"As long as he doesn't mind," Steve said. He sat down on the bed and rubbed his neck.

"It's just a couple of nights," Bucky said, perching on the edge of the bed. "And this way we get to have a little privacy."

He rubbed Steve's shoulders, gently massaging the sore muscles. The job at the bookstore wasn't nearly as physical as anything Bucky did, but it was more than Steve was used to. Steve sighed, leaning back into Bucky's hands. With a quick glance to be sure the door was tightly closed, Bucky leaned over to kiss Steve's neck.

Steve twisted away. "Bucky, your parents are in the other room!"

"They'll knock," Bucky said, kissing Steve's neck again.

Steve pushed him away again. "What if your sister barges in? I don't want you to get thrown out of the house on Thanksgiving."

"Gotcha, we'll wait until Christmas," Bucky joked.

"Bucky," Steve said flatly.

Bucky sat back with a frustrated sigh. Steve had been skittish around him recently. His mother's death had affected him much more than he let on, but Bucky was starting to worry. "Steve-"

A knock at the door interrupted them. "Are you boys getting settled?" his mother called.

Steve jumped off the bed away from Bucky. "Yes ma'am."

"We're going to play cards. Come out and join us."

"We'll be there in a minute," Bucky called. He smiled at Steve. "See, nothing to worry about."

Steve glared as him as they headed out to the kitchen. Becky and his parents sat at the table. His youngest sister was reading by the window and his brother was playing in the blanket fort. His father dealt the cards while his mom took a couple of glasses out of the cabinet.

"It's a holiday, so I'll let you boys have a glass of wine."

"Do I get some?" Becky asked.

"No," his mother said, shaking her head firmly. "You're only 16."

Steve stifled a laugh as Becky crossed her arms over her chest, pouting and glaring at him.

"Your face will freeze like that," Bucky taunted as his mother handed him the glass. He took a sip, pretending to grimace. His mother wasn't much for drinking and they usually only had alcohol on special occasions. He hadn't told her about the incident at the bar this summer. If she knew he had drunk himself sick on a date with a loose woman, she would never let him out of her sight.

"Tomorrow night I'll get out the good scotch," his father muttered as they settled in.

"What are we playing?" Steve asked

"Shanghai Rummy," his father answered.

The game started. Becky won the first hand quickly and Bucky won the next one. As the game continued, Becky and Bucky were vying for first, his parents kept trading places for third and fourth. Steve was dead last with no chance of a comeback. He had been distracted the whole evening and had not manage to lay down his cards once. Becky was ruthlessly mocking him for it. Steve barely noticed but Bucky was all the more determined to beat her.

The last hand came and it was his mother's turn to deal. She sipped her second glass of wine and dealt the cards. "So Steve, have you found a place to live yet?"

"I'm still looking," Steve answered politely.

"You're always welcome here," she said.

Steve laid his cards down. "I think that wine is going to my head. If it's alright, I think I need to go to bed."

Bucky laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "It's the last hand. If you don't play Becky will say I cheated."

Steve sighed and sat back to organize his cards.

"Oh, Bucky, I need you to take your brother to the parade tomorrow," his mom reminded him.

Bucky started to complain, but then looked at Steve. The parade might be just the thing to cheer him up. Last year he had practically begged Bucky to go with him. "Yeah, but that little punk had better not give me any trouble."

"Can we play?" Becky asked impatiently. "I'd like to beat you and go to bed."

* * *

Bucky awoke with a start as his brother jumped on his stomach. It was still dark outside, but the stupid kid was wide awake.

"Come on, wake up!"

"Alright, I'm up!" Bucky groaned, pushing him off. His brother ran back out to the kitchen. Bucky reached over and shook Steve.

"Bucky, it's still dark," Steve muttered.

"I know. We're going to the parade."

Steve turned over and pulled the covers tightly around his shoulders. Bucky frowned. Steve hadn't seemed terribly excited about the parade but he didn't think he would be this reluctant. Bucky closed the door and started to get dressed.

"Come on, we need to get going if we want a good spot."

"Just go without me," Steve said. Something in his voice alarmed Bucky. He sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Are you feeling ok?"

"I'm fine," Steve grumbled. "I just don't want to spend five hours standing outside in the freezing cold for a stupid parade."

"You were the one who made me go last year," Bucky reminded him.

"I just don't feel like going."

Bucky reached over to brush his cheek. He was worried about Steve. He had been moody lately and Bucky had no idea what to do. "Come on, Sweetheart. It'll be really boring without you."

Steve sat up, his hair and pajamas were rumpled. It didn't look as though he had slept well, but lying in bed all morning wasn't going to make him feel better. Steve might not feel like going to the parade, but once he was there, maybe he would perk up.

"Fine," he muttered, rolling out of bed.

* * *

Bucky chewed the last bite of his roll as dinner drew to a close. The day had not gone as well as he had hoped. The parade had been fun, but aside from a brief smile when Santa Claus appeared at the end, it had had no effect on Steve's mood. He had barely spoken the rest of the day.

Steve stood and took his plate to the sink. "Thank you for dinner Mrs. Barnes."

"You're welcome Steve. Now who wants to play Monopoly?"

"I actually need to be going," Steve said. "I have to work tomorrow."

"Do you want some pie before you go?"

"I couldn't eat another bite," Steve said. Bucky frowned. Steve had barely eaten a thing and what he had eaten was only because he was too polite to refuse.

"Well at least let me wrap up something for you," Bucky's mom insisted.

Bucky followed Steve into the bedroom as his mother set about wrapping up more food than Steve would eat in a week. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," Steve said with a note of irritation as he gathered his things. "I have to be at work at 7 AM."

"Here you go," Bucky's mom said, handing Steve a tin foil package as they came back into the kitchen.

"Thank you Mrs. Barnes." Steve said, putting on his coat.

"Mom, I'm going to walk Steve back," Bucky said.

"Alright," she said. "Dont stay out too long."

Bucky followed Steve out the door. It was a short walk to his apartment but the cold and the silence made it seem much farther.

"You sure you don't want to stay over?" Bucky asked.

"We're almost there. You didn't have to walk me home."

"I didn't want you to be alone."

"It's ok," Steve said morosely. "I'm kind of in the mood for it."

Bucky put a hand on Steve's shoulder. "You'd tell me if there was anything I could do."

Steve looked down at the foil wrapped food. "This is more than enough."

Bucky followed Steve up the stairs and into his apartment. "I might pop down tomorrow to get that book."

Steve nodded. "I'll have it wrapped and I have one in mind for your sister too."

"Happy Thanksgiving, Sweetheart." Bucky gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and headed back out into the cold.

* * *

Steve hurried through the frosty streets to work, hoping the shop would be busy. It was two weeks until Christmas. He was supposed to go to Bucky's for dinner later but was hoping Mr. Zimmerman might need him to stay late. Then he could just take a bath and go to bed. It was nice of Bucky's parents to ask, but he wasn't in the mood to be sociable. He stopped to get a newspaper. He still needed an apartment and he was running out of time. He didn't want to impose on Bucky, but at this rate he might not have a choice.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the offer but he didn't want to be around Bucky's family right now. His parents were great and Bucky's mom and dad treat him like one of their own, but that was the problem. They weren't his parents. His parents were gone and he was alone on his own now. He knew Bucky had meant well having him over for Thanksgiving, but it had just reminded him that he no longer had a family. The parade had just reminded him of the first time his mom had taken him when he was a kid. He remembered sitting on her shoulders to look at the elephants. Thanksgiving had never been a big affair for them but it didn't feel right to celebrate the holidays without her.

He entered the shop to find Mr. Zimmerman at the front adjusting the display.

"Good Morning Mr. Zimmerman."

"Guten Morgen Steven," he said. "Nice and early! When you get settled, I have the order from yesterday in the back that needs to go out and then you can dust the shelves."

Steve hung up his coat and set to work. The job had been a bit overwhelming at first, but he was used to it now. It was more physical than he had expected, but he enjoyed that. It kept his mind off his worries, if only for a few hours. With everything going on, it was nice just to focus on something simple.

Between cleaning and helping customers, the day seemed to fly by. It wasn't until his shift was almost over that Steve realized he had never eaten lunch. He tried to remember if he had anything at home. With his mother's work schedule, he had always helped out with the cooking, but she had always done the grocery shopping. Months later, he still forgot sometimes that he needed to do that as well. More often than not he came home to a nearly empty cupboard and he wasn't looking forward to eating another pickle and anchovy sandwich for dinner.

"Mein Gott," Mr. Zimmerman exclaimed. "Look at this place. It's going to take a while to clean up tonight."

"I don't mind staying if you need me to," Steve offered. If he stayed late he could spare enough to get a hot meal from the diner on the way home.

"Danke schön," Mr. Zimmerman said, relieved. "I'm keeping you from your dinner though."

"It's alright."

"No, no," he took some money out of the register. "Here, run to the deli and get us both something to eat. You cannot work on an empty stomach."

Steve took the money and headed down the street. He really didn't mind staying but it was nice to get out for a minute. He got a ham sandwich with cheese for both of them and two bottles of Coke-a-Cola. Clutching his coat tightly against the wind, he headed back to the store. Inside he found Bucky browsing the front display.

"Hey," he said. "Ready to go?"

"I can't," Steve said. "We had a really busy day and I need to help close up."

Bucky looked a bit disappointed but he nodded. "I guess I'll see you later then?"

"I drop by tomorrow," Steve promised as Bucky left. Mr. Zimmerman pulled up a chair for each of them and unwrapped his sandwich.

"I did not know you had plans or I would not have asked." He said.

Steve shrugged as he unwrapped his sandwich. "I wasn't really feeling up to it."

"I did not want to pry into your personal affairs, but I see him here often. I think he is worried about you."

"My mother passed away a few months ago." Steve told him. "She was the only family I had."

"I am sorry to hear that," Mr Zimmerman said. "That must be difficult at your age."

"It's ok, I can manage," Steve said, taking a large bite of his sandwich. He was hungrier than he realized.

Mr. Zimmerman smiled. "Of that I have no doubt, but this world is a lonely place. Even if you can do it alone, I would not recommend it."

"Do you have a family?" Steve asked, eager to talk about something else.

Mr. Zimmerman chewed his sandwich, a far off look in his eyes. "No," he said finally. "I left everyone I knew behind when I came here. Like you, I am on my own."

"Do you miss it?" Steve asked. He had never even left New York. There wasn't much holding him here, but he still couldn't imagine leaving everything and running off to a foreign country.

"I miss my home," Mr. Zimmerman said sadly, "but the country I left is not the country I knew. In the last few years it has been over run by tyrants and fanatics."

"Is that why you left?"

"Yes, Germany is not a safe place for rational men." He forced a smile. "But I am in New York now and there is too much work to do to waste time dwelling on the past." He finished his sandwich and put the chair back.

Steve finished his sandwich and looked around. Mr. Zimmerman was right about that part. He put his chair back and went to work straightening the shelves.

* * *

The smell of his mother's soap lingered on her clothes as Steve packed them away. She had never worn perfume for fear of triggering his asthma, but her soap had always had a faint hint of lavender. He had set aside a few of the plainer looking sweaters to keep for himself, but the rest would have to go to charity. Wherever he ended up moving, he wouldn't have room for them. As he folded one of her dresses, he heard the key in the lock.

"Steve?" Bucky called.

"In here." Steve laid the dress in the box and went to the door. "I was just packing some things up."

"I haven't seen you in a couple of days," Bucky said.

Steve shrugged. "Yeah, sorry, work's been busy."

"You up for dinner and a movie? My treat."

"You sure?" Steve asked. Bucky hadn't taken him on a real date since losing his job. He didn't want Bucky to strain his budget but it would be nice to go out.

"It'll be fine," Bucky promised with a sly smile.

"Ok, let me get my coat."

Bucky caught his hand and pulled Steve close. "No need to rush, it's early," he said, leaning down for a kiss. Steve let himself relax into it until Bucky started to tug at his shirt. Steve caught his hand. Bucky took a step back.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Steve muttered, shaking his head. "I'm just not in the mood."

"It's more than that," Bucky insisted. "You've been acting like this since Thanksgiving."

"I said I'm fine!" Steve said, grabbing his coat from the rack. "Can we just go to the movie?"

"No!" Bucky snapped. "You've been pushing me away for months and it's starting to get on my nerves. Either tell me what's wrong or get the hell over it!"

"I changed my mind," Steve growled, throwing his jacket back on the rack. "I need to finish packing."

Bucky scowled. "Fine! Won't be any fun with you moping the whole time anyway!" He stormed out, slamming the door behind him. A moment later he opened it again.

"You're welcome to come over for Christmas," he yelled. "Just head on over whenever you wake up!" He turned, slamming the door behind him again.

Steve stomped back to his mother's bedroom and resumed packing. He wished he had never slept with Bucky. One impulsive act had complicated things between them. With everything in his life spinning out of control, he just wanted something to be simple. He couldn't control what had happened to his mother, or moving, or school, or anything else. Now the one thing he had thought he could rely on was just as confusing as the rest of his life.

He shoved the rest of the clothes in the box and closed it up. If he hurried, he could get it over to the church before dinner. That would be one less box of stuff to worry about tomorrow.

* * *

"You did tell him to come over for breakfast didn't you?" Bucky's mother said as she cleared the plates from the table.

"Well I didn't say that exactly, but I figured he'd be here by now," Bucky said. He hadn't talked to Steve in three days, but didn't think that Steve would still be angry. He had meant to go over yesterday, but he had been too busy at work.

"Go get him," his father said. "He probably got knocked over by a light breeze and fell in a snow bank."

"Dad!"

"The kid is too damn skinny!" His dad retorted. "Get him over here and get him a biscuit."

"Can I take the car?"

His father looked up over the newspaper. "Hell no! It's only 6 blocks!"

"Language!" His mother chided.

Bucky dressed and hurried over to Steve's. It was bitter cold and if he and Steve hadn't gotten in a fight he would be tempted to think that Steve had chosen to stay home just to keep warm. He had lost his temper but Steve's attitude was starting to irritate him. Steve kept a lot of things bottled up, but Bucky had always been able to tell what was on his mind. The way Steve had been acting lately had Bucky scratching his head.

Bucky knocked on Steve's door. Steve opened it, still in his pajamas. He was wearing a cream colored sweater that looked like it had been made for a girl.

"Bucky? What are you doing here?"

"It's Christmas!" Bucky exclaimed. "Where have you been? I told you to come over when you got up."

"I changed my mind," Steve said. "I didn't want to intrude."

Bucky sighed. "Steve, I'm not going to leave you alone on Christmas, now-" Bucky looked at Steve's face carefully. He had been crying. Bucky stepped into the apartment and closed the door. He looked at the couch where Steve had been drinking a cup of coffee. A picture of his parents sat on the coffee table.

Bucky put his arms around Steve. He had assumed this was about their fight the other day, but he should have known better. It was going to be Steve's last Christmas in this apartment. In a week, he would have to leave the only home he had ever known. With everything changing right now, he needed Bucky to just be his friend. Steve clung tightly to him, burying his face in Bucky's coat.

"Why did she have to die?" Steve asked quietly. "I'm not ready for all of this."

"I know Sweetheart," Bucky said softly, hugging him tightly. "It's not fair."

"And I still don't have a place to live," Steve told him. "I have to be out of here in a week and I have no idea where I'm going to go."

"Come live with me," Bucky said.

"Bucky," Steve said wearily.

"Just hear me out," Bucky said, as Steve went over to sit on the couch. "I found a place a few blocks over. It's small, but the rent is good. If you move in with me, we can manage it no problem."

"I can get by on my own."

"God dammit I know you can, but why do you want to?" Bucky asked, taking a seat on the other end of the couch. "I believe you could take on the whole damn world by yourself, but you don't have to. Let me help."

Steve looked at him uncertainly.

"I'm asking you as my best friend," Bucky added. "Move in with me. I promise I'll keep my hands to myself."

"I didn't mean it like that," Steve protested.

"Well I give up! How did you mean it?" Bucky asked, exasperated.

"Everything just happened so fast, I just wasn't ready. I don't what was going through my head that day. I just jumped in without thinking," He took a deep breath. "What if this doesn't work out?"

Bucky put a hand on his shoulder. "Then I'll still be your friend," he said firmly. "Now would you please stop being so stubborn and come help me with the rent?"

"How can you even afford that? You still don't have a real job," Steve pointed out

Bucky grinned. "I was going to tell you at dinner the other night The factory asked me to come on full time."

"Bucky, that's great!"

"Yeah, so stop worrying! We can do this."

"Ok," Steve said finally. "Let's do it."

"Good, I have your key right here," Bucky said, taking out a small box.

Steve opened it and took out the shiny new key. "I feel bad, I just got you a book."

Bucky looked around. "Well you could give me some furniture for my new place."

Steve laughed and tossed a pillow at him. "Merry Christmas, Jerk."

Bucky grabbed the pillow and swung at Steve, smacking him softly in the shoulder. "Merry Christmas, Punk. Now get dressed and let's go to my folk's place before Becky eats all the mincemeat pie."

* * *

"That's the last of it," Bucky said, closing up the box.

Steve took one last look around the apartment that he had grown up in. Most of his things were already at their new apartment and without the furniture, he barely recognized the place where he had spent his childhood. Bucky squeezed his shoulder.

"It'll be fun," he said.

Steve nodded and left the apartment. Bucky followed, locking the door behind them. Downstairs, Bucky's dad was waiting with the car. Steve loaded the box into the back seat and got in beside it. Bucky sat in the front with his father.

"All set?" Mr. Barnes asked.

"Yes sir," Steve said. They drove to the new apartment. Steve watched out the window as the familiar buildings raced by. It was only a few blocks away, but it felt as though he was entering a whole new world. Mr. Barnes parked the car and helped them unload the last of their things.

"Your mother expects you two over for dinner tonight," he said to Bucky.

"Yes, sir. We'll be there at 6," Bucky promised.

Bucky and Steve carried their things up the stairs as Bucky's father drove off. Steve set the box on the table and looked at the small apartment. There was one bedroom, just big enough for their two beds and a bathroom off to the side. The common room was barely large enough for the table, couch, and radio. They had been forced to sell much of Steve's furniture, but they had both refused to part with those items.

"Well, it's not much, but it's ours," Bucky said.

"Thanks for talking me into this," Steve said.

Bucky stood behind Steve and wrapped his arms around Steve's waist as they surveyed their new home. "Like I said, pal, I'm with you to the end of the line. And after that, we'll just jump on another train."

Steve leaned his head back against Bucky's shoulder. He had to admit that the world seemed a little brighter when you didn't have to face it alone. Steve turned to Bucky, playing with the top button of his shirt. "You know, when I said I wanted to slow down, I didn't mean we had to stop completely."

"Oh?"

"I mean we do have the place all to ourselves," Steve said, looking up at Bucky. He popped the button out of the hole and started working on the next one.

 **-End-**

* * *

A/N: I didn't really plan to write a holiday chapter for this, but the timing worked out. Hope you enjoyed the flurry of updates. This likely won't update again until mid to late January. I have several other things that need my attention and I need to sit back and plan my next steps with this one. I have an overall idea, but I want to make sure I don't miss any key moments as I'm skipping through their pre-war relationship.

While you're waiting, take a minute to review and let me know what you think of the story so far!


	7. Be My Valentine

**A/N:** This is an interlude that has no real bearing on the story. It was originally posted out of sequence since it was written as a spur of the moment Valentines fic, but is now in the proper order. Happy (belated) Valentines Day!

* * *

 **Be My Valentine**

 _-Brooklyn, February 1937-_

The smell of ham and warm bread wafted through the apartment as Steve waited for Bucky to come home. He sat at the kitchen with his sketchbook working on Bucky's Valentine's Day gift. Between work and school he had barely had any time for it and with Valentine's Day four days away, he was starting to think he would never finish.

The door opened and Steve hurriedly closed his sketch book as Bucky entered. He tossed his coat on the chair by the door and headed to the kitchen. "Hi Sweetheart," he said, kissing Steve on the cheek. He lifted the lid off the pot and stirred the soup. "What's for dinner?"

"Ham and Bean soup." Steve said, hanging Bucky's coat on the coat rack. "It's almost ready if you want to wash up."

"Alright, just give me a minute," Bucky said, disappearing into the bathroom.

Steve opened his sketch book again as he heard the shower start. If he hurried, he might be able to finish the part he had been working on. Sketching furiously, he managed to finish the outline just as the water stopped. He quickly packed up his supplies and set the table as Bucky headed to the bedroom to change. He sliced the bread and set it on the table as Bucky returned.

"Let's eat," Steve ladling soup into the bowls. "I've been smelling this all afternoon and I'm starving."

"Smells great," Bucky said as they sat down at the table. He tasted the soup as Steve reached for a piece of bread. "Delicious."

"This is what it tastes like when you don't burn it," Steve teased.

Bucky laughed, dipping a crust of bread into the soup. "Still want to see a movie tonight?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, it's been a while since we did that." He had been hoping to work on the drawing, but there was a new film with Henry Fonda that he wanted to see.

Bucky was quiet for a moment as he chewed his bread. "So this should last us through the weekend. What should I make Sunday night?

"I don't care, just don't burn it again," Steve said. "It's too cold to open the windows."

"Valentine's Day is Sunday," Bucky reminded him. "Should I make something special?"

"Just pick something easy," Steve urged him. "I'm going to be in the studio working on a project for school most of the day, so I won't be here to help."

"You know I'm not completely helpless," Bucky grumbled.

Steve started to argue, but shook his head. "Come on. We'd better hurry up and eat if we want to make that movie."

* * *

Saturday morning after Steve went to work, Bucky headed over to his parents. He had been racking his brain to come up with something to impress Steve. So far he had managed to ruin every meal he had cooked for them and he was eager to show Steve that he could pull his weight around the apartment. His mother was ironing laundry when he came in.

"Bucky!" She set the iron aside and kissed him on the cheek. "You didn't tell me you were coming!"

"I can't stay long, I just wanted to borrow a cookbook."

His mother looked at him in surprise. "A cookbook?"

He shrugged. "Eating boiled cabbage and baked beans gets kind of old after a while."

She went to the kitchen and looked over the small stack of books on the counter. "What exactly are you looking for?"

"Nothing too complicated," he said. He wanted something nice, but it wouldn't do any good if he couldn't follow the recipe.

His mother handed him a book and sat down at the table. "Why don't you find something that sounds good and I'll talk you through it," she suggested.

Bucky poured through the cookbook. Most of it looked too complicated or too expensive. He didn't need anything fancy, he just needed something edible. Finally he found a recipe for rack of lamb. It looked simple enough, mostly just salt and pepper. He had never made gravy before but it didn't look too difficult. With some mashed potatoes and greens beans it should be good.

"I think I'll go with this one," he said. "I'll bring it back next week."

His mother laughed. "Keep it! You need it more than I do."

"Thanks Mom." Bucky kissed her on the cheek and headed off to the butcher shop. For once, he was going to surprise Steve with something he would actually enjoy eating.

* * *

Steve hastily flipped the page of his sketchbook as one of the other students passed by the table where he was working. He has chosen a seat near the back of the room so that he wouldn't have to worry about anyone looking over his shoulder, but he had forgotten about the supply closet. He idly sketched the outline of the statue in the middle of the room until it was clear.

Cautiously he turned back to his picture. It was almost finished, but he was having some trouble with the shading. His art had improved greatly since he started school, but it also made him realize just how much more he had to learn. He wished he could ask one of his professors, but he would just have to muddle through on his own.

The sun was setting when Steve was finally satisfied with the drawing. He carefully tore the page out of the book and cut off the ragged edges. Slipping it into an envelope, he headed back to the apartment. The cold wind made the walk seem longer than usual. He rounded the corner onto their street and practically ran the last half block, eager to be out of the cold. He hurried up the stairs and opened the door to the smell of lamb and Lysol. For a moment, Steve stared at the apartment in awe. Usually when he left Bucky alone for the day the apartment looked like it had been struck by a tornado, but the place was spotless. The candles were lit and music was playing on the wireless. Bucky stood at the stove stirring a simmering pot.

"Happy Valentine's Day Sweetheart!" he said.

"Did you do all this?" Steve marveled.

"Yep," Bucky said proudly, coming over to take Steve's coat and hanging it on the coat rack. "Cleaned the apartment, made dinner and I even baked a cake."

Steve looked at him skeptically.

"Ok I bought it from the bakery," Bucky confessed, "but I made vanilla sauce to pour over it."

"This is great," Steve said, standing on his toes to kiss Bucky. "You didn't have to, but thank you."

"Have a seat, this will be ready in a few minutes." Bucky poured him a glass of wine as Steve sat down at the table. The timer sounded and he went to take the lamb out of the oven. "I just hope this tastes as good as it smells."

"It can't be any worse than the time you tried to roast a chicken," Steve said.

"Don't jinx it!" Bucky warned him.

Steve just laughed, sipping his wine as Bucky served dinner.

* * *

Bucky sat back in his chair savoring the last bite of cake. Dinner had been a success. He was tired, but it had been worth it to see the look on Steve's face when he walked in the door. He took the plates to the sink as Steve took an envelope out of his bag.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he said. "I'm not sure it compares to all this, but I hope you like it."

Curious, Bucky opened the envelope. Inside was a hand drawn picture of them dancing together with Steve's head on his shoulder. The soft lines and warm colors made it feel like a scene from a dream. "It's beautiful."

Steve smiled. "We can't take a picture like that together so I thought I'd make you one."

"I love it," Bucky said, carefully sliding it back in the envelope, as a familiar song began to play on the radio. He held out his hand to Steve. "Care to dance?"

Steve took his hand and let Bucky lead him to the living room. Bucky pulled Steve close as the music played.

 _~Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with you,_

 _Let me hear you whisper, that you love me too._

 _Keep the love light glowing in your eyes so blue_

 _Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with you.~_

"Thank you for dinner," Steve said, laying his head on Bucky's shoulder in an imitation of the drawing. "It was wonderful."

"Don't get too used to it," Bucky cautioned. "It took me all day to get that right."

Steve laughed. "You'll get it eventually." He stood up on his toes to give Bucky as soft kiss. "Just don't get cocky and try to make bacon tomorrow."

"I'll leave that to you," Bucky whispered.

He leaned in to kiss Steve again as Steve reached up to undo the top button on Bucky's shirt. His nimble fingers made short work of the buttons. He slipped the shirt off letting it fall to the floor. Bucky leaned back and pulled his undershirt off. Licking his lips, Steve curled his fingers in Bucky's chest hair, pulling at it slightly as he leaned in to kiss his firm muscles. He circled his tongue around Bucky's nipple, slowly teasing it erect. He gasped as Steve bit down gently on the tender nub. Steve looked up at him with a sly grin. Bucky looked over at the table.

"I have an idea." He led Steve back to the kitchen taking the bowl of vanilla sauce off the table. He dipped the spoon in and drizzled a bit of it on his chest.

Steve laughed. "What are you doing?"

"Seems like a shame to waste it," Bucky said, licking the spoon seductively.

Steve grinned and bent down to lick a stream of vanilla that had dribbled down Bucky's stomach. Bucky drizzled another ribbon of it across his chest, dabbing the spoon on each of his nipples. He shuddered as Steve licked his chest clean, his tongue lapping gently at the sticky sauce. Bucky felt his cock strain against the fabric of his shorts as Steve sucked at a nipple. He almost burst with relief as he felt Steve's hands fumbling with the buttons of his pants. Leaning against the table, he gripped the edge for support as Steve's slender fingers brushed against him.

Slowly he ran his hand up and down the length of Bucky's swollen cock, pausing every now and then to slid his thumb across the oozing tip. Bucky shuddered and put a hand on Steve's cheek, pulling him into a deep, wet kiss. The taste of vanilla and sugar lingered on Steve's lips. Bucky moaned softly, arching into Steve's touch. He broke off the kiss, panting for breath as Steve quickened his pace. He was close now. Gripping Steve's shoulder, he came, spurting all over the front of Steve's pants. He stood there for a moment, watching Steve as he caught his breath. Steve licked a few drops from his wrist and tried to wipe the sticky goo off his pants.

"I guess I'll be doing laundry tomorrow," he muttered.

"I'll do it," Bucky said. "But we should at least put those into soak," he suggested playfully, slipping his pants own off.

Steve blushed, hesitating for a moment as he stared at Bucky's naked body. He made no move to get undressed, but didn't resist as Bucky tugged at the buttons. He slipped them off Steve's slim hips and carried their clothes to the sink, running the water to let them soak. Steve stood there in his underwear and shirt watching Bucky shyly.

"Did you want to put something on?" he asked.

Bucky leaned back against the sink, shifting his legs apart to give Steve a good look. "Did you want me to?"

"No," Steve muttered, leaning against the table.

Bucky grinned and went over kiss him. They had been easing back into this, but if he caught Steve in the right mood, it just took a little coaxing to move things along. He could feel Steve's cock pressing into his leg. Slowly he slipped a hand down between them, gently running a finger down the front of Steve's shorts.

"You want me to-"

"Yes," Steve interrupted in a breathy voice.

Bucky sank to one knee and unbuttoned Steve's shorts, letting them fall to the floor. He flicked his tongue at the oozing tip of Steve's half hard cock. Gagging a bit at the taste, he reached for the bowl of vanilla sauce, smearing the sauce along the shaft.

"That's cold!" Steve cried.

Bucky took Steve into his mouth, sucking off the sweet, sticky mess. Steve sighed as the heat of Bucky's mouth wrapped around him. Bucky drew back slowly along the length of Steve's cock. He swirling his tongue around the head, the taste mingling with vanilla and sugar. He let it slide out of his mouth. Steve gasped as he slathered another spoon of vanilla sauce on the head. He trailed the tip of his tongue along the underside of Steve's cock before taking it back into his mouth. Steve gripped his hair, pushing him down further along the shaft. Bucky gagged slightly as the tip hit the back of his throat. He pulled back to catch his breath for a minute, stroking Steve with his hand.

"What's wrong?"

"I just can't fit that much in my mouth," Bucky told him.

"Sorry," Steve panted. "It feel so good, I got a bit carried away."

He moaned as Bucky took him back in. Sucking gently, he swirled his tongue in slow teasing circles around the tip. He eased down as far as he could stand, sliding back and forth slowly. Trailing his slowly up the inside of Steve's thigh, he squeeze his balls gently, rolling them between his fingers. Steve shuddered, clenching his fist tightly in Bucky's hair. Bucky could feel himself stiffen again and reached down to grip his own cock as he ran his tongue up the side of Steve's erection. The moans and gasps tumbling from Steve's lips sent shivers through his body to his aching groin.

He drew his fingers up to the base of Steve's cock, letting them dance lightly over the part that he couldn't fit in his mouth. He worked his fingers along the length, as he sucked and teased Steve toward the brink, feeling him writhe under his touch. Steve started to quiver, his hands tightening in Bucky's had. Bucky pulled away before Steve could shoot off in his mouth. Steve looked at him, silently begging him to finish. Bucky stood up and pushed Steve back to sit on the table, leaning over to kiss Steve's neck. He pressed his body against Steve, grinding against him. Steve cried out, digging his fingers into Bucky's shoulder. Bucky reached between them and wrapped a hand around their erections. Steve bucked his hips, thrusting into his firm grip. Already on the brink, he came, shooting off on his shirt. Panting for breath, he fell back on the table exhausted. Bucky looked at Steve. The sight of him lying half naked and spent in the kitchen table was almost enough to push Bucky over the edge. He pumped himself furiously finally exploding all over Steve's shirt. Breathing heavily, he leaned over to kiss Steve but Steve pushed him aside and sat up.

"Brush your teeth before you do that!"

Bucky shook his head. "So you'll lick my goo but you won't kiss me after I suck your hambone?"

"It's just weird," Steve muttered, putting his shorts back on.

"So is eating that stuff!" Bucky argued.

"Just brush your teeth!" Steve insisted. He looked at the damp spot on his shirt and took it off, tossing it in the sink with their pants.

"Fine," Bucky said, pick up his shorts as he headed to the bathroom to clean up.

"And use mouthwash!" Steve called.

* * *

Later that night Bucky and Steve sat on the couch in their pajamas as soft music played. Bucky was admiring the picture while Steve leaned against Bucky's shoulder.

"Do you think that's how we actually look?" Bucky asked.

"I don't know," Steve yawned snuggling closer. "That's how we look in my head."

"I like it that way," Bucky mused. "We look happy."

Steve lifted his head to look at him. "I am happy Buck. Maybe I don't always seem like it and you really need to work on your cooking, but this really is the happiest I've ever been."

Bucky kissed him gently. "Happy Valentine's Day Sweetheart."

Steve laid his head back on Bucky's shoulder. "Happy Valentine's Day."

 **-End-**


	8. Life in Brooklyn

**Life in Brooklyn**

 _-Brooklyn, Spring 1937-_

It was still dark when Steve awoke shivering. He got up and looked out the window, clutching the blanket around his shoulders. The fresh snow reflected the glow of the street lamp outside. Fat flakes drifted down from the sky, silhouetted against the light.

"Steve?" Bucky muttered.

"It's snowing," Steve told him.

"And dark," Bucky mumbled. "And Saturday. Go back to bed."

"I'm cold. I was going to get another blanket."

Bucky reached out, gesturing for Steve to get in bed with him. "You're going to catch pneumonia if you keep standing there. This is warmer."

Hesitantly Steve slipped under the covers and laid his blanket on top of both of them. Bucky turned on his side to give Steve more room in the narrow bed as Steve settled in with his back to Bucky. Bucky put an arm gently around Steve, the heat of Bucky's body warming him almost instantly. Steve relaxed and put a hand on Bucky's arm."Geez, your hands are like ice!" Bucky remarked, covering them with his own.

"Night Bucky," Steve said, snuggling closer against him.

Bucky kissed his neck. "Night Steve."

* * *

Bucky awoke to Steve's hair in his nose. He repositioned his head and settled back down as Steve rolled over to face him.

"Did I wake you?" Bucky asked.

Steve shook his head. "No, I was awake. It was just too cold to get out of bed."

Bucky kissed him, pulling Steve closer. He could feel Steve's erection poking into him. Gingerly he slid a hand down to rest on Steve's hip. "I could take care of that if you want me to."

Bucky felt Steve tense up but before he could answer, the alarm clock rang. Steve threw back the covers and ran to turn it off. Bucky felt the cold air rush in as Steve took his clothes out of the wardrobe. He sat up and caught Steve's hand as he headed to the bathroom to change.

"If you don't want to, you can just say something," Bucky said.

Steve's hand trembled. He smiled, but it seemed a bit forced. "I have to get ready for work. You stay here where it's warm. I'll wake you up when breakfast is ready."

Bucky pulled the covers back over his head as Steve got ready. Once again he had managed to ruin the mood. After living together for two months, most of their life had fallen into a comfortable routine, yet this was still a sore point for both of them. Steve had always been terribly shy, which was strange to Bucky, since he was never particularly passive in anything else. He didn't mind having to initiate things, but he could never tell how Steve was going to react. Some days Steve would let him do almost anything and other days he shied away at the slightest touch. Bucky had agreed to back off a bit but it was frustrating to have to keep guessing where they stood.

Steve came in and tossed Bucky his bathrobe. "Breakfast is ready."

Bucky put it on and went to the kitchen, stopping at the window to look at the snow. "Are you sure Mr. Zimmerman is going to open today?"

"He'll open." Steve said with certainty. "Last time it snowed he kept going on and on about how much it used to snow in Bavaria." He put his arms around Bucky and hugged him from behind, peering around Bucky's arm to see out. Bucky stood there, savoring the small show of affection.

"It's pretty though," Bucky said wistfully.

Steve squeezed him gently and went to the stove. "Come on, the eggs are getting cold." He poured each of them a cup of coffee and set the food on the table as Bucky settled into his chair.

"So what are you going to do while I'm at work?" Steve asked, taking a seat across the table.

Bucky took a piece of toast and slathered it with strawberry jam. "I'm going to the gym. I have a tournament coming up in a few weeks so I need to get ready." Bucky caught a smile on Steve's face. He always got excited after a match.

"What day?" Steve asked, stirring a bit of milk into his coffee. "I'll be sure to ask off."

"April 10th."

Steve nodded. "I'll check, but Mr. Zimmerman shouldn't have a problem with it."

Bucky looked outside as the falling snow. "You want me to walk you to work?"

Steve shook his head. "It's the opposite direction."

"It's not that far," Bucky argued. "I need the exercise anyway."

Steve sipped his coffee to hide a smile. "If you can get ready in time."

Bucky grinned. "What do you want for dinner?"

"Anything but boiled cabbage!" Steve said wearily. He had made that a few days ago. They had finally finished it last night, but the smell still hung in the air.

"I think we still have some carrots and potatoes. I'll stop by the butcher on my way home and see if there's anything on special."

"It would be a nice break from beans," Steve said.

"I'll see what I can find," Bucky finished his coffee and took his plate to the sink. He turned on the water.

"I'll get the dishes. You go get ready," Steve said, around his last mouthful of toast.

"You sure?" Bucky asked.

"Mr. Zimmerman's a stickler for punctuality, so if you want to walk me to work, you'd better get dressed! I'm leaving in 15 minutes, with or without you."

Bucky kissed him and ran off to get ready. He packed his gym bag and put on a warm sweater. It was late for a snowstorm, but March weather was always unpredictable. When he came back out, Steve was at the table packing their lunch.

"Please tell me there's no cabbage in there," Bucky begged him as he put on his coat.

Steve closed up the lunch pail and handed it to him. "Corned beef with sauerkraut."

Bucky looked at him. "You know that's just pickled cabbage."

"Then you make lunch," Steve teased, putting on his coat.

Bucky pulled him close and kissed him. "Have a good day at work Sweetheart." Outside the apartment, they were nothing more than friends. Even if they were walking together, he always made sure to say goodbye before he opened the door.

Steve smiled and straightened Bucky's scarf. "Knock 'em dead."

* * *

It was still snowing when Bucky left the gym. He had promised Steve some meat for dinner and a stew would be good on a night like this. Sometimes he wished he'd taken home economics in school. Becky had been able to help him a little, but living on his own and having to cook and clean for himself was more challenging than he had expected. He never realized exactly how much his mother did around the house until he had to do it himself. Growing up with just his mother to take care of the family, Steve had always had to help with many of the household chores that Bucky had never bothered with. Bucky had cooked before, but it had gone from being a romantic gesture to a daily expectation. Steve had been patient the first few times when he had burned something, but they were both getting tired of eating charcoal. Bucky had pushed Steve to live with him out of concern for Steve, but now he was starting to realize how much trouble he would have been in without him.

Clutching his coat tighter, he hurried to the butcher shop near the gym. It was surprisingly busy considering the weather. He eyed the beef but the rabbit was cheaper. He saw a nice fat one hanging on the end. With a few carrots and potatoes, it would cook up nicely.

"Next!" the butcher called.

"Could I get the rabbit there on the right?" Bucky asked.

"Hey, I was going to get that one!" a female voice said behind him. Bucky turned to tell her to buzz off, but the words froze in his mouth. The woman was about his age with silky red hair and full red lips. He glanced at her left hand and noticed that she wasn't wearing a ring.

"Ok, I'll take the fat one in the middle," Bucky said. The butcher nodded and turned to get the rabbits, muttering something about bunnies.

"You didn't have to," she said. Bucky caught a wisp of a flirtatious smile.

He shrugged. "Eh, they're not that different."

He looked at her as the butcher wrapped up the rabbits. It had been months since he had been out with a girl. After losing his job, he hadn't been able to afford it and then he had been focused on helping Steve get through his mother's death. Now that things had started to settle down, maybe it was time to get back to normal.

He held out his hand. "I'm Bucky,"

"Hazel," she said. "I feel like I should make it up to you."

Bucky eyed the rabbit. He felt a bit guilty, but he and Steve had agreed to this a while ago. "Well I'm eating rabbit for the next few days, but I don't have any dinner plans Wednesday if you're free."

Hazel took a notepad out of her handbag and scribbled down an address and phone number. "You can pick me up at six."

Bucky folded the paper and put it carefully in his pocket. For a moment he was elated. It wasn't the first time in a while that a dame had batted her eyes at him, but it was the first time he'd been able to do something about it. It seemed like forever since he had been out dancing. He and Steve would have to practice a bit before Wednesday. Suddenly Bucky remembered the last time he'd been out with a dame. It had been that girl from his work back when he got fired. Steve had gone completely nuts and barged in on them ready to claw her eyes out.

"Oh, hey, I don't suppose you have a friend? I don't want my roommate to think I'm just trying to get out of cooking dinner."

Hazel considered the request. "What's he like?"

"Swell guy," Bucky told her. "He's an artist."

"Can he dance?" Hazel asked.

"Oh he's something else," Bucky said, avoiding her gaze.

Hazel smiled. "I'll see what I can do." She paid the butcher and took her rabbit. "I'll see you Wednesday."

Bucky smiled, waving as she left. He was excited, but he would have to break the news to Steve carefully. He took out the money to pay the butcher and counted the change carefully.

"Say, can you recommend a wine to go with this?"

* * *

Steve sighed as he closed the door to the apartment. They never kept it very warm, but compared to the weather outside it felt like a summer day. He took off his coat and hung it on the rack. Bucky was standing by the stove stirring a large pot. It smelled wonderful, but more importantly it was hot.

"Hi Sweetheart. What's for dinner?"

"Rabbit stew," Bucky said proudly.

"Smells great!" Steve said, inhaling the faint scent of rosemary.

"Yeah, we'll see how it tastes," Bucky said cautiously.

Steve laughed and picked up Bucky's coat from the armchair. He hadn't realized when he agree to move in that Bucky was such a slob. He checked the pockets to be sure Bucky hadn't forgotten anything in them. He had a bad habit of leaving things lying around things, and with the weather changing, he might accidentally leave a $5 bill in there until next winter. Steve pulled out a handful of change and a piece of paper. He unfolded it to see if it was important. The writing on it knocked the breath out of him.

"Who is Hazel?" he asked in a tight voice. Bucky put the lid back on the pot and turned around. Steve could see he had been preparing for this conversation all afternoon.

"I was going to tell you after dinner. I met her at the butcher shop. We're going out Wednesday."

Steve tossed the slip of paper down on the table and went to the bedroom without word. He half expected Bucky to follow, but instead he heard the sound of dishes being placed on the table. He hung up his jacket and put on a heavy sweater, sitting on his bed for a moment to catch his breath. Bucky hadn't been on a date since last summer when he lost his job. Settling into their life over the last couple of months, Steve had almost let himself hope that Bucky was done with it all. Steve had started art school and Bucky's job was stable. It had been a bit awkward at first but they had managed. Now everything was changing again. He traded out his shoes for his slippers and returned to the kitchen where Bucky was pouring two glasses of wine.

Bucky handed Steve a glass. "I was saving this for dinner. The butcher said it would go nicely with rabbit."

Steve took a large sip, not trusting himself to speak quite yet. He took a deep breath and set his glass down on the table. "You haven't been on a date in months."

Bucky shrugged. "Well I didn't have any money until a month ago."

"So the only thing keeping you around was money?" Steve asked bitterly. The second the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them.

"Oh, you know that's not true!" Bucky snapped. He took a sip of his wine before continuing in a calmer voice. "I wanted to give this some time but nothing's changed."

"Everything's changed!" Steve shouted. "We-" Bucky put a finger to his lips and pointed at the ceiling. Steve lowered his voice. "We live together Bucky. That changes everything! I know when you leave the house and I'm here when you come home smelling like some tart's perfume!"

"Sweetheart," Bucky reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. Steve slapped it away. Bucky drank his wine and refilled the glass. "You've had a rough time of it this past year and I think I've been pretty patient with everything, but we talked about this."

"And I told you I didn't like it," Steve grumbled.

"But you also said you weren't going to stop me," Bucky reminded him. "If you want me to wait a while longer-"

"No, you're right" Steve said quietly. He took his glass and paced around the kitchen. "But I don't want you bringing anyone back here. This is our apartment. When we're home, you're with me."

"Fair enough." Bucky nodded. He reached over to refill Steve's glass. "I guess I should have picked up another bottle."

"I don't think I could drink anymore," Steve said. The first glass was starting to hit him. He always drank too much when he argued with Bucky.

Bucky turned back to stir the stew. "Are you still mad at me?"

"No," Steve muttered, sipping his wine. "I'm sorry, it just took me by surprise."

Bucky put the lid on the stew and leaned over to kiss him. "I'm sorry, I meant to break it to you a little more gently." He paused. "There is one more thing."

"Bucky," Steve warned.

"She's got a friend," Bucky said quickly. "You told me that you wouldn't be so upset if you had a date too, so I took care of it."

Steve groaned. "If you want to get back to dating, ok, but I'd rather just stay in."

Bucky crossed his arms. "You say that, but you're just going to end up stalking me again so I might as well just bring you along."

"You don't think that's going to be a little awkward?" Steve asked, thinking back to their last double date.

"Maybe a little, but is that really worse than sitting around waiting for me to come home."

"I guess not," Steve conceded. "What did you tell her about me?"

"Just the good stuff," Bucky said quickly, turning back to stir the pot.

"Bet that was a short conversation," Steve muttered.

"Just give it a chance," Bucky pleaded.

Steve sighed. "What are we doing?"

"Dinner and dancing," Bucky said with an excited sway of his hips.

Steve slid up to stand beside Bucky, putting a hand on Bucky's waist to remind him who his best dance partner was. "Did you tell her I can dance?"

"Nope." Bucky shook his head. "If she got that impression that's her own damn fault."

Steve chuckled and dipped a spoon in the stew. "Hopefully you can lie better than you cook."

"Dammit," Bucky groaned. "Did I burn it again?"

"No it just needs salt." He nudged Bucky aside and sprinkled some salt and pepper into stew. He stirred it for a minute. Bucky stood behind him and caressed his arm.

"What would I do without you?"

Steve grinned and held out the spoon for Bucky to taste. "Starve?"

* * *

Wednesday evening, Bucky and Steve waited in the small lobby of Hazel's apartment building. Hazel came came down the stairs in a stunning green dress. Her friend came down behind her and her eyes fell on Steve. Bucky saw the all too familiar look of disappointment and revulsion. She stopped Hazel at the bottom of the stairs to whisper something. Hazel grabbed her arm to keep her from leaving. Bucky could see Steve scowling beside him.

"Come on, we're already here," Bucky whispered.

"You owe me," Steve muttered.

"Hi!" Hazel said with a flirty smile. "Did you find the place ok?"

"Yep. You look great," Bucky complemented her, admiring the way the dress showed off her curves. "This is Steve."

"This is my friend Ruby," Hazel introduced the sullen brunette.

"Hello," Ruby said, limply shaking hands with Steve. Steve politely shook her hand with a thin smile.

"Well let's get going" Bucky said, offering Hazel his arm. Steve and Ruby followed as he led her out the door. The snow had melted and the night was pleasant as they walked down the street

"Where are we going?" Ruby asked.

"A little Italian place nearby," Steve said. Bucky could tell he was going to pay for this later, but he was grateful to Steve for giving it a chance.

"I'm allergic to garlic," Ruby said in a disdainful tone. Steve heaved a defeated sigh.

"I'm sorry," Hazel apologized. "I should have said something."

Bucky shrugged. "Don't worry about it. How was your rabbit?"

"A bit stringy," she admitted. "I kind of wish I'd let you have it. How was yours?"

"Not bad," Bucky replied. "I tossed it in a stew."

"Oh, I should have done that," Hazel said. "My mom roasted it and it came out a little dry."

"Well my stew was kind of bland, but Steve fixed it. He's pretty handy in the kitchen," Bucky told them. Hazel looked expectantly back at Ruby.

"So you live together?" Ruby asked brusquely. "Are you brothers?"

"Roommates," Steve corrected her. He turned to address Hazel. "I had to move kind of suddenly. Bucky was real pal and offered to help me with the rent."

"That's so sweet!" Hazel gushed.

Bucky grinned. "Here's the place," he pointed to a restaurant with a red and white striped awning.

"Oh I pass by this all the time!" Hazel said. "I've always wanted to try it."

They went inside and the waiter showed them to a table. Bucky pulled out the chair for Hazel and Steve did the same for Ruby. Bucky caught half of a silent conversation between them as he pushed in the chair. Ruby didn't seem very happy.

"Would anyone like some wine?" Bucky asked, looking around for the waiter. The evening was off to a terrible start and they hadn't even ordered.

"That sounds wonderful," Hazel replied.

"Ruby?" Steve asked dutifully.

"I don't drink," she said haughtily, smoothing her napkin in her lap.

Steve scowled at Bucky and even Hazel looked irritated with Ruby. Bucky ordered a bottle of something he wasn't quite sure how to pronounce and three glasses.

"So what looks good?" he asked, trying to keep the mood light.

Hazel scanned the menu. "The lasagna sounds delicious."

Bucky looked at the prices, relieved to see that it was one of the cheaper items. "I might get that too. Steve?"

"I was looking at the spaghetti and meatballs. What about you?" he asked Ruby.

"I'll just have soup," she said, closing her menu with a crisp snap.

The waiter came to bring the wine. "Have you decided?"

"We'll have two orders of the lasagna," Bucky told him.

"Spaghetti and meatballs and she'll have the soup," Steve said. He handed the menu to the waiter. "And an order of garlic bread."

Bucky took a sip of his wine to keep from laughing as Ruby glared at Steve.

The rest of dinner wasn't any better. Steve's halfhearted attempts to engage Ruby in conversation tapered off until they were sitting in tense silence. Bucky was enjoying Hazel's company, but Steve was watching him with a resentful glare. They finished dinner and Bucky asked for the check.

"I need to go powder my nose," Hazel said. She grabbed Ruby and dragged her off to the podwer room. Bucky turned to Steve.

"Ok, she's not exactly Judy Garland, but maybe once we get to the dance hall-"

Steve glared at him. "I'm not going to sit there and keep the Wicked Witch of the West busy while you dance around making eyes at Hazel."

Bucky started to reply, but the waiter came by with the check. As they finished paying, the girls returned to the table. Ruby had a sour look on her face and Bucky could only assume that Hazel had given her a talking to about her behavior.

"So where are we going next?" Hazel asked.

"Dancing," Bucky said. "It's not far."

"I'm going to take Ruby home," Steve announced. "Hazel it was nice to meet you. Buck, I'll see you later."

Ruby practically ran out of the restaurant. Steve followed without another word leaving Bucky alone with Hazel.

"Well that was rude," she said as Bucky helped her with her coat.

"Hey, she was being a pill from the moment you showed up," Bucky said defensively as they left the restaurant.

"Still," Hazel said with a scowl. "Who walks out in the middle of a date?"

"She seemed pretty keen to get out of here too."

"He could have at least come dancing for a bit,"

Bucky bit back a reply. "Let's forget it and just enjoy the rest of the evening." he suggested. Hazel nodded grudgingly.

Bucky tried to strike up a conversation on the way to the dance hall, but Steve's sudden departure had put a damper on the mood. He had set Steve up so that he wouldn't feel left out, but it had backfired and now Hazel was mad at him too. Still, he was determined not to let that be the end of it. It had been ages since he had been dancing. Between Steve and his job, he hadn't been able to get out and he was going to make the best of it.

Bucky led Hazel onto the dance floor. It had been so long since he had danced with anyone but Steve and he was a little rusty at first. A couple of times he forgot that he was supposed to be leading, but after a few songs he was back to his old self. Bucky let himself relax into the rhythm of the music and enjoy having a pretty girl in his arms, even if she was a bit sore at him. As they glided over the floor, Bucky realized how much he had missed this. Not just dancing, but being able to hold someone out in the open, to hold a door or pull out a chair. Hell, he even missed being able to argue in public. Sometimes he felt like he was missing out on so much being with Steve. When it came down to it, he preferred holding Steve in bed on a cold morning to dancing with some stuck up dame, but having to constantly watch every word and gesture when they were out together was exhausting.

The song ended and Bucky stood back for a moment to catch his breath. The band started up again, playing the swaying strains of a familiar song. For a moment Bucky froze. He was about to excuse himself until a man tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey pal, mind if I cut in?"

Bucky felt a wave of relief. "Go ahead." He bowed to Hazel and made his way off the floor as the dance began.

" _Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with you,  
_ _Let me hear you whisper, that you love me too.  
_ _Keep the love light glowing in your eyes so blue  
_ _Let me call you sweetheart, I'm in love with you."_

It didn't seem right to dance to this song with anyone else, but he wished Steve could understand why he needed to keep dating. Before Steve, he had dated several girls at a time and he never remembered having these kinds of issues. Bucky had been upfront about his reservations and Steve had agreed to let him work things out, but when the time came, he always managed to get in the way. Steve was ready to settled down, but the idea of that terrified Bucky. Even if Steve were a girl he wouldn't be ready to settle down. The fact that it was Steve just make everything that much more confusing.

In his wildest dreams Bucky had never pictured himself dating another man. If it had been anyone but Steve, he might have ignored his feelings completely. Some days he still wondered if there was something wrong with him. Then he would come home to Steve cooking dinner or drawing and everything seemed to fall into place. When they were together it all seemed so simple. Then Bucky would see a pretty dame at the drugstore and everything would be turned on it's head again.

The song ended. He headed back to the dance floor to cut in with Hazel, but stopped. She looked like she was having fun with the guy. He looked out at the happy couples twirling around the floor, and all he could think about was Steve at home drawing. Part of him wanted to call it a night, but Steve was going to lay into him when he got back and Bucky wasn't quite sure what he was going to say. If he stayed out long enough, perhaps Steve would be asleep when he got home. He eyed one of the dames standing against the opposite wall and went over to ask her to dance.

* * *

After dropping off Ruby, Steve went home and made a cup of cocoa. He settled on the couch with his sketch book and tried to draw, but he couldn't seem to keep his mind on his art. Seeing Bucky out with a girl had been harder than he had expected. It didn't help that his date had been terrible. Maybe if she had been a better distraction, he wouldn't have been so fixated on Bucky, but seeing Bucky take an interest in girls again made him wonder if he was doing something wrong. They had agreed to slow down, but Steve still got flustered sometimes when Bucky touched him. Bucky had been patient, but after tonight Steve wondered how much longer that would last. He was still staring at a blank page when Bucky came home.

"You're back early," Steve said, more coldly than he intended.

"Yeah, I have work tomorrow," Bucky replied hanging up his coat. "You get Ruby home safe?"

"Would have left her there if I could," Steve muttered. "How'd the rest of the night go?"

"Not great," Bucky said irritably. "You storming out after dinner was pretty much the end of the evening."

"I told you I didn't want to go," Steve reminded him a little resentfully

Bucky's eyes narrowed. "What, so this is my fault?"

Steve set down his pencil and took a deep breath. Bucky was already irritated with him for leaving. He didn't want to make things worse. The night had been a disaster and neither one of them was in the mood to discuss this calmly. "Forget it. I think we just need to go to bed and talk this tomorrow."

"No we're going to talk about this now," Bucky pressed him. "Just tell me what's wrong!"

"What good would that do?" Steve asked. They had been over this a hundred time and it always ended the same way.

"Well it would speed things up," Bucky grumbled impatiently. "Just tell me why you're angry with me."

"I'm not angry," Steve said shortly.

"Well I am!" Bucky said. "You ditched me halfway through the date after I begged her to set you up. Do you know how that makes me look?"

"She didn't try very hard!" Steve snapped throwing his sketchbook down on the couch. "This always happens! You get to have fun with some dame and I have to settle for whatever stuck up twit she brings along!"

"You still could have come dancing for a half hour."

"So I can watch Hazel fawn all over you while her friend steps on my toes?" Steve snarled. "I'm tired of having to compete for you with girls like her!"

Bucky rubbed his forehead with an exasperated sigh. "Steve, you're not competing with her, she's competing with you!"

"Then why can't you just be with me?" Steve shouted, his voice shaking.

"Because I'm not ready!" Bucky yelled. "I know you're ready to jump into this and settle down, but I'm not! I don't want to be tied down like that to anyone right now, not even you" He ran a hand through his hair. "If you don't want to see anyone else, fine, but that's your choice! I'm tired of feeling like the bad guy because you have expectations that I can't live up to!"

Steve stared at Bucky for a moment, at a loss for words. Bucky grabbed his jacket from the coat rack.

"I'm going to the bar. Don't wait up."

The door slammed shut, leaving Steve alone. He felt a tear slip down his cheek as he picked up his sketchbook and went to the bedroom. He had been right about one thing; they should have just gone to bed and put this off until the morning.

* * *

The apartment was dark when Bucky came home. Steve was fast asleep in bed. Bucky went to the bathroom and splashed some water on his face. He felt bad for yelling at Steve, but he wasn't in the wrong. He wasn't going to apologize for how he felt. Having spent years watching Steve fail with girls, Bucky couldn't blame him for getting upset about the date. Sadly what happened with Ruby was nothing new and Steve, for all his great qualities, was riddled with insecurities when it came to dating. Bucky hated to see him like that, but it didn't change anything. He had been honest about his feelings from the beginning and Steve had stayed anyway. None of that made arguing with Steve any easier. It hurt to see him upset, but it would hurt more later if Bucky made promises he couldn't keep. He loved Steve, but he was done feeling guilty for needing his freedom.

He dried his face and went to change into his pajamas. As he threw back the covers to get in, he heard Steve shivering in the other bed. Taking a blanket from the wardrobe, he laid it over Steve and bent down to kiss him on the cheek.

"Goodnight Sweetheart."

* * *

When Steve awoke that night, Bucky was fast asleep in the bed across the room. Steve noticed that the blankets felt heavy. Running a hand across it, he recognized the knitted blanket that they kept in the wardrobe. Bucky must have put it there when he came in. He thought back to their fight earlier. It hurt to admit it, but Bucky had been right. He simply wasn't ready for the sort of commitment Steve wanted and Steve couldn't expect anymore than Bucky had already offered him. It wasn't fair, but if he wanted to be with Bucky he would have to be satisfied with that.

Suddenly it occurred to Steve that he was doing the same thing. Bucky had been reluctant to commit to him, but Steve had been holding back as well. If he wasn't willing to give Bucky what he wanted, what right did he have to keep him? Glancing over at the other bed, Steve unbuttoned his pajama top and slipped off his pants. The chill jolted him awake and he hurried across the room, slipping under the covers. He settled down on top of Bucky and kissed him gently. Bucky yawned and opened his eyes.

"Steve? What time is it?" he muttered sleepily.

"I'm not sure, but I couldn't sleep," Steve said. "I owe you an apology."

"Apology accepted," Bucky yawned, "Can we talk about this in the morning?"

"No, I need to say this now," Steve insisted. "You're right. I've been expecting too much of you, but I'm just afraid of losing you. Every time you go out with someone I keep wondering if this is going to the one that steals you away."

"Oh Sweetheart!" Bucky kissed him softly and stoked his cheek.

"I just," Steve paused. "I realized I haven't really been fair to you and that you have some expectations that I'm not living up to either." Steve leaned in to kiss Bucky, his heart pounding. Bucky gave him a chaste kiss and held him back.

"Sweetheart, that has nothing to do with this. I've done more with you than any girl's let me do." He ran his hands down Steve's back, cupping his bare ass. "Are you naked?"

Steve could feel himself blush. "I just thought maybe I should meet you halfway."

"This isn't about you. I love you the way you are." Bucky trailed a finger up his back. "It's me, I'm the one that has to sort this out. And I will. I just don't want to look back in twenty years and wonder if I did the right thing."

Steve gaped at Bucky. "You love me?" Bucky was silent. It was the first time he had said those words and for a minute, Steve was afraid he might take them back.

"Yeah, I love you," Bucky said finally. "You don't have to do anything to make me stay." He ran a hand down the side of Steve's naked torso. "Although this isn't hurting your case."

"I love you too," Steve whispered, sliding his hands underneath Bucky's shirt. He had never doubted that Bucky cared for him, but to hear him say 'I love you' put Steve's mind at ease for the moment. He kissed Bucky, undoing the tie of Bucky's pants, and slid a hand inside to find that Bucky was already hard. Steve looked at him in surprise.

"You climbed in my bed naked," Bucky said.

Blushing, Steve sat back on his knees to remove Bucky's pants, but lost his balance. He fell to the floor, landing on his rear.

"What if we start pushing the beds together at night?" Bucky suggested.

"That would make this easier," Steve agreed, rubbing his backside.

Bucky grinned. He reached down and wrapped a hand around Steve's cock. Steve grabbed the edge of the bed, biting his lip to stifle a moan. The next door neighbors already thought he suffered from nightmares, and the upstairs neighbors had brought in a priest to bless the house after hearing strange noises from below. Steve leaned back on his hands, arching his hips as Bucky's fingers moved along his length. Bucky rubbed his thumb in a slow circle over the tip and then down to caress his balls. Steve gasped, his body quivering under Bucky's touch. Bucky trailed a finger up the underside of his cock, just barely touching, before once more wrapping his strong hand firmly but gently around the shaft. Clapping a hand over his mouth to muffle his cries, Steve came, spurting white goo all over Bucky's hand.

Bucky sat back to admire his handy work, as Steve caught his breath. "Yeah, I think we should start pushing the beds together."

Steve blushed, grabbing the blanket off his bed to cover himself. Bucky laughed and wiped his hand clean on his shirt, tossing it in a corner of the room. He sat up to help Steve, but Steve put a hand on his thigh and knelt between Bucky's legs. He looked up at Bucky, sliding his hand toward the waistband of Bucky's pajama pants. Bucky lifted his hips to let Steve slide them off. Licking his lips, Steve looked at Bucky's stiff cock. Bucky had done this for him so many times, but he had never tried it before.

Hesitantly he put his lips around the oozing tip, lapping at it gently. Bucky moaned, leaning back on the bed. Steve swirled his tongue around the head and carefully slid down. He had seen Bucky gag before trying to take him in too quickly. He felt the muscles convulse as the tip hit the back of his throat and pulled back slightly. He moved down again, trying to relax his throat as though he were swallowing something. He managed it for a few seconds then moved back to catch his breath and tried again. A deep groan escaped Bucky's throat as he wove his fingers into Steve's hair. He tightened his grip as Steve slid back down. It hurt a bit, but in a way that made Steve shudder.

Steve could feel Bucky quivering in his mouth. He let Bucky's cock slip out of his mouth with a wet smack and moved down to kiss Bucky's inner thigh. When Bucky did this for him it was always over so quickly. He didn't mind, but he liked how it felt to have Bucky at his mercy, to know that every sound and movement that Bucky made was his doing. He wanted to draw that out a long as he could. Working his way up Bucky's thigh, he craned his neck to take one of Bucky's balls into his mouth. Bucky moaned, but Steve spit it out almost immediately. The hair caught in his teeth and made him cringe. He put his mouth back around the tip of Bucky's cock and used his hands to fondle Bucky's balls instead. Bucky sucked in a breath. Steve could feel him tense up again and sat up on his knees to swirl his tongue over Bucky's hard nipple. Bucky grabbed Steve's hand and wrapped it around his cock.

"I can't take it anymore!" he whimpered. "Just finish me off!"

Grinning with satisfaction, Steve bent down, sliding his lips back and forth along the hard length. Moments later, Bucky came, the taste of him filling Steve's mouth. Steve swallowed it, noting with pride that Bucky had never done that. He looked up at Bucky, smirking.

"Where did you learn all that?" Bucky asked in amazement.

"Watching you," Steve said.

"I don't think I've done half of that," Bucky mumbled. He looked at Steve. "You actually like that stuff?"

Steve shrugged, wiping his mouth. The taste had been strange at first, but the more he tried it, the more he found himself starting to like it. There was something about it that was uniquely Bucky.

"Well I'm not kissing you until you brush your teeth." Bucky reached out his hand to help Steve up. Steve kissed him on the cheek. He picked up their clothes while Bucky pulled Steve's bed over to his, arranging the covers so they could cuddle up together. Bucky lay on his back and Steve settled in beside him with his head Bucky's chest.

"So you really love me?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, especially after that," Bucky said, stroking his arm. "Now can we please go back to sleep? We both have work in the morning."

* * *

Bucky awoke to the smell of coffee and an empty bed. He rolled out of bed and put on his bathrobe. Steve was at the stove making breakfast

"Pancakes!" Bucky exclaimed. "My birthday was last week!" He hugged Steve from behind and kissed his cheek. "Though after last night I feel like I should be cooking you breakfast."

Steve giggled as Bucky kissed his neck. "I felt like I should apologize for what happened."

Bucky went to pour a cup of coffee. "I feel like you already did!"

Steve blushed. "Even so, I'm sorry I stormed out."

Bucky waved his hand dismissively. "That broad had it come," he said, pouring a cup of coffee for Steve. Steve took a sip and poured some batter into the skillet.

"Did you have fun at the dance hall?"

"It was nice to get out," Bucky admitted. He reached down and took Steve's hand. "I love you, but I just feel kind of trapped sometimes having to hide. Going out with a dame, it doesn't mean anything. Once in awhile I just want to being able to have a good time and not worry about getting caught."

Steve squeezed his hand. "I just worry that if I let you go you're not coming back."

Bucky brushed a strand of hair out of his face. "Is that what last night was all about?"

Steve nodded.

"I'm not just going to vanish," Bucky promised. "And if someone else does come along, you'll know it. Then you can fight for me. Right now I'm not serious about any of them."

Steve flipped the pancake. "You've been really patient with me and I've just been kind of a pain. I've had so much on my mind the last six months, I forgot you were having a rough time of it too. I'm sorry, and I know pushing you away wasn't helping."

Bucky put a hand on his cheek and kissed his forehead. "It's ok if you don't want to do anything. You can tell me, I just want to feel like I can ask."

"You can ask me anytime," Steve whispered as he leaned in to kiss Bucky.

Bucky stopped him. "Did you brush your teeth?"

Steve punched him in the arm and turned back to the pancakes.

 **-End-**

* * *

Thanks for reading! Please take a minute to review and let me know what you think!


	9. Coney Island

**In case you missed it! A new Valentines Chapter was added. It was chapter 9, but I have moved it to it's chronological place in the story as chapter 7.**

* * *

 **Coney Island**

* * *

 _-Brooklyn, Spring 1937-_

The evening sun streamed through the window as Bucky and Steve cleared the table after dinner. Bucky's cooking had improved tremendously in the last few months. Anything edible was a victory, but dinner had almost been good tonight. Steve ran the water while Bucky stacked the dishes on the counter beside the sink.

"Are you working this Saturday?" Bucky asked, opening the drawer to get a towel.

Steve turned off the water and picked up a wine glass. "No, what'd you have in mind?"

"Let's go out Coney Island. It's been a while."

Steve caught a slight note of apprehension in Bucky's voice. He turned around, crossing his arms over his chest. "What's her name?"

"I don't know yet," he said lightly, carefully drying the glasses

Steve sighed and turned back to the sink. "In other words, you want to go to the shore to pick up girls."

Bucky shrugged. "It's just a little fun."

Steve scrubbed the dishes furiously, taking a few minutes to collect his thoughts before answering. He was trying to give Bucky space to work things out but he couldn't help how he felt. The best he could manage was taking a minute to calm down so that he didn't say something he'd regret. He didn't want to go, but last week's double date had ended horribly and he felt he needed make it up to Bucky. Besides, there was no guarantee that Bucky would find someone. It might end up just being the two of them

"Alright," he agreed. "But you're taking me to the museum next week. Just the two of us."

"That's fair," Bucky agreed, putting the plates back in the cupboard

"In Manhattan," Steve added.

Bucky groaned. "Do you know how much that's going to cost?"

Steve just smirked.

"Fine. Just don't cause a scene this time please," Bucky pleaded.

"Fair enough," Steve said setting the pot in the water.

Bucky gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you."

Steve smiled and set to work scrubbing the pot. "Come on. Let's get these done. The Lone Ranger comes on in a few minutes."

* * *

The late morning sun was hot as Bucky and Steve wound their way through the crowds on the boardwalk. There was a steady breeze, but back of Steve's neck was still damp with sweat. He loosened his collar a bit as Bucky paused to look around.

"Should have brought our bathing suits," he said, fanning himself with a flyer for a burlesque show that someone had handed him.

"Next time," Steve suggested. "You can bring me here for my birthday, just the two of us."

For a moment Steve worried that was a bit too sharp, but Bucky just grinned. "Well it looks like we beat the dames here, so while it is just the two of us, let's go ride that!"

Steve looked where Bucky was pointing and his stomach dropped to his feet. "The Cyclone?"

"You keep saying you're going to ride it."

"No, you keep saying you're going to make me!" Steve argued.

"Well come ride it with me and I'll get off your back about it," Bucky replied.

Steve gulped as the car of screaming riders clattered along the track. "I feel like I'm going to throw up just looking at it!"

Bucky rolled his eyes. "So you'll pick a fight with that behemoth at the dance hall last week but you're afraid of a rollercoaster?"

"He was asking for it! Was I supposed to just sit there and let him insult me like that?" Steve grumbled. He had nearly broken his hand and would have been thrown out of the dance hall if the doorman hadn't found the whole thing funny.

Bucky laughed. "I still can't believe your date left with him."

"So did that floozy you were with," Steve reminded him.

"Eh, she was kind of stuck up anyway." Bucky put an arm around Steve's shoulder. "Come on, one ride!"

Steve watched the car whip around the turn. "What if my wallet falls out while we're going around a curve?"

Bucky sighed. "Now you're just making excuses."

"Remember what happened on the slide?" Steve reminded him.

"Only because you ripped your jacket." Bucky stuck out his hand. "Here, I'll hang on to it, just get on the damn roller coaster!"

With a resigned groan, Steve handed Bucky his wallet and followed him to the ticket booth. At least he would have an excuse to hold onto Bucky's arm.

* * *

"See, it wasn't so bad!" Bucky said as the car jerked to a halt. Steve released his vice like grip on Bucky's arm and staggered off the ride, barely making it to the bushes before vomiting.

"I'm going to get you for th-!" He gagged, clapping a hand over his mouth.

Bucky took Steve's arm and led him out to the boardwalk before the ride operator could yell at them. Steve made it to the railing and leaned over the side, vomiting again. Beside them, Bucky heard a shriek. He turned to apologize, but stopped as his gaze rested on the curvy redhead. Bucky looked her up and down. She was pretty, with full lips and big green eyes.

"Is he alright?" she asked.

"Just a little sick from the ride," he assured them, patting Steve on the back. He gagged, gripping the railing tightly.

The other girl, a skinny brunette, looked at him doubtfully. "Are you sure?"

"Nothing a soda won't fix," Bucky said. "Care to join us?"

The redhead looked questioningly at her friend. The brunette shrugged.

"Ok," the redhead agreed. "Sounds great.

Steve stood up, swaying dizzily. Bucky threw an arm around his shoulder to keep him from falling over. Bucky smiled at the girls. "I'm Bucky, and this is Steve."

The redhead giggled. "I'm Dolores and this is Mildred."

"Dolores?" Bucky flashed her a charming grin. "You don't seem like a Dolores to me. Can I call you Dot?"

"Sure," she said with a coy smiled. "There's a soda shop a little ways down that we've been to a few times. We could go there."

"Sounds great!" Bucky said. "Lead the way!"

Bucky ignored Steve's dark glare as Dot led them through the crowd. He would make it up to Steve later, but he wasn't about to let Dot walk away before he'd had a chance to talk to her.

* * *

Steve sipped his cherry soda slowly as Bucky chatted up Dot. Mildred sat beside him, her chin resting on her hand as she sipped her drink through a straw. If he hadn't been so queasy, he would have tried to talk to her, but she didn't seem to mind being left alone. Steve tried not to pay too much attention to Bucky and Dot. He had promised Bucky he wouldn't make a scene. Bucky needed to get this dating thing out of his system and the harder Steve fought him on it, the longer it would take.

Bucky finished his soda and pushed the glass aside. "So what should we do next?"

"Let's ride the carousel!" Dot suggested excitedly.

Bucky looked at Steve. "Think you can handle that pal?"

Steve finished his soda and burped. He felt a little better but he still didn't want to risk getting sick again. "What if we play some games?"

"That sounds fun!" Dot said. She stood up and grabbed Bucky's hand. "Let's go!"

They left the soda shop and walked down the boardwalk. Dot and Bucky chatted about the games they passed while Steve walked quietly beside Mildred. He had never been very interested in the games. He liked watching Bucky, but he was too clumsy or weak to be any good at most of them. On a good day he could win the ring toss, but usually it was just a waste of money.

"Look! The high striker," Dot squealed, dragging Bucky over to the contraption.

"Step right up!" The operator called to the crowd. "Test your strength and show your sweetheart what a real man can do!"

"That thing is rigged," Steve muttered, careful not to let the man hear him. He and Bucky had tried one like it before. The operator had let Steve try for free as a demonstration. Despite barely being able to lift the mallet, he had almost hit the bell. When Bucky tried, the puck had only gone halfway up.

"I bet you could do it!" Dot said, batting her eyes at Bucky.

Bucky looked at Steve and then at Dot. Steve rolled his eyes, but kept silent. He could tell Bucky was already a goner.

"It's not rigged!" Bucky said. "Here, I'll show you!" He stepped through the crowd and handed the man a dime. "I'll give it a whirl!"

The operator handed him a mallet and stepped back. Bucky took a moment to adjust his grip and swung at the lever. The puck slid halfway up the rail and then fell back down. He tried again, but each time the puck only slid about halfway. Steve heard Dot giggling quietly with Mildred. Bucky looked back at them in dismay and dug in his pocket for another dime.

"Let me try again. I wasn't ready."

Bucky removed his jacket and handed it to Steve. Tightening his grip, he slammed the mallet down on the lever. The puck soared up, higher this time, but still falling short of the bell. Bucky swung again, but each attempt failed to reach the top. With a frustrated scowl he handed the operator another dime. Each time, the puck rose a little higher, but he still failed to hit the bell.

"I told you it was rigged!" Steve called. Bucky glared at him and paid for another turn. He struck the lever and the puck rose, lightly striking the bell this time. He swung again striking the bell with a sharp ding. He turned back to them, a defiant smile on his face.

"See, I told you I could do it."

Steve scoffed but Dot clapped excitedly. "That was wonderful!"

Bucky grabbed his jacket from Steve and offered Dot his arm. "I'm hungry. Let's go get some popcorn."

"Ugh I don't think I can eat yet," Steve groaned.

"Fine, more for the rest of us." Bucky laughed and he led Dot away. Mildred skipped up ahead to join the conversation, leaving Steve to follow behind.

* * *

Bucky returned to the bench with two bags of popcorn. He handed one to Steve to share with Mildred and sat down beside Dot. So far things were going alright, but the high striker had been embarrassing. The game had been rigged, but the way Steve and Dot had looked at him after the first time had wounded his pride. He knew he didn't need to prove anything to Steve, but he didn't like being made to look foolish, especially in front of a girl. Fortunately, Dot didn't seem too put off by it. He might still have a shot if she was willing to stick around after that.

Bucky and Dot ate the popcorn, chatting about movies and dancing. Mildred and Steve sat in silence. Mildred was enjoying the other bag while Steve leaned back against the bench with his eyes closed, probably still trying to settle his stomach. Bucky felt a bit guilty for goading him into riding the roller coaster, but if he hadn't, he wouldn't have met Dot. He just hoped Steve wasn't too angry. Bucky offered the last handful to Dot and threw away the bag.

"What now?" he asked.

"Let's go to the shooting gallery," Steve suggested.

"That sounds exciting!" Dot exclaimed. "Let's go!"

Bucky mouthed a silent thank you to Steve as they strolled down the boardwalk. He was good at shooting. This was his chance to make up for the high striker and impress Dot. If that didn't do it, he could still show off for Steve. They strolled down the boardwalk and found a shooting gallery not far away. Bucky paid the man and took aim. He squeezed the trigger, hitting all his targets in rapid succession until he was out of ammo.

"Look at that!" he said proudly.

Dot clapped excitedly. "That was wonderful! Do it again!"

"Go ahead," Steve prompted. "Try to win the coffee."

Steve was trying to act casual, but Bucky caught a hint of admiration in his voice. Grinning, Bucky paid for another round of ammo and took aim. Once again he hit the targets dead on.

"You're amazing!" Dot gushed as Bucky collected his prize. Even Steve was watching him with a giddy smile.

"One more time," Bucky said, handing the man another dime.

"Go for the sugar," Steve called. "We're almost out."

Carefully taking aim, Bucky fired again, hitting all the targets. The man grudgingly handed over the sugar with a scowl. Bucky took the hint and strolled off with a cocky grin.

"So what do you girls want to do next?"

Dot looked at her watch and then looked at him in a way that made Bucky's stomach turn. "We have to be going," she said. "I have to meet my boyfriend for dinner, but I had a great time!"

Bucky stood there flabbergasted as she and Mildred ran off down the boardwalk. Beside him, Steve was struggling not to laugh.

"That hussy!" Bucky fumed. "What sort of broad goes around flirting like that when she has a-" he trailed off. Steve was smirking at him. Bucky scowled at him. "I don't want to hear a word out of you."

"I didn't say anything," Steve said smugly.

"This is different and you know it!" Bucky insisted. "She was just using me so she wouldn't have to pay for anything."

"And it worked," Steve taunted him. Bucky reached out to smack him on the shoulder but Steve darted away, dashing off through the crowd.

"Come over here and say that, punk!" Bucky shouted, chasing after him. He caught Steve in few yards away and put him in a headlock. Steve just laughed, twisting out of the hold and leaning against the railing to catch his breath. Bucky stared out at the water scowling. Steve had a point but he was damned if he was going to admit it.

Steve punched him lightly in the arm. "Hey, if you buy me an ice cream I promise I'll make it worth your while later."

Bucky glared at him, but Steve just looked back at him with a sultry grin. Bucky sighed. "Chocolate or Vanilla?"

"Strawberry," Steve said, batting his eyes mockingly.

Bucky shoved him lightly as he headed off to the ice cream shop. Steve was never going to let him live this one down.

* * *

A warm breeze tugged at Steve's shirt as he and Bucky walked along the shore. The sun was low in the sky and the beach goers were starting to clear out. Steve carried his shoes in one hand and his jacket in the other. The soft sand shifted under his feet as the water lapped lazily at his toes. Bucky picked up a shell and hurled it out across the water.

"Well that was a bust," he said glumly.

"It was still fun," Steve told him. "And you finally got me to ride the Cyclone."

Looked up at the clouds with a satisfied grin. "Are you feeling better? I'll buy you a hotdog."

"Starving," Steve said, holding a hand to his rumbling stomach. Except for the ice cream, he hadn't eaten all day.

They walked back to the boardwalk and strolled along until they found a hotdog cart. Steve waited by the railing while Bucky ordered. He returned and handed one of the hotdogs to Steve.

"We should do this more often," Bucky said as they looked out over the water. "The only thing that would make it better is if I could hold your hand right now."

Steve blushed. "Sorry it didn't work out with Dot."

Bucky shrugged. "Eh, she was kind of stuck up anyway." He took a bite of his hotdog.

Steve frowned. "Did you ever notice that when a broad turns you down you describe her as stuck up?"

"Did you ever notice that when I make eyes at a girl you call her as a floozy?" Bucky retorted.

Steve huffed and took a bite of his hot dog. They ate in silence, watching the sun on the water. Bucky finished his hotdog and put his jacket back on.

"Ready to go?"

Steve took a last look out over the water. "Yeah. I'm beat."

They walked to the station to the station in silence. Despite his words, Bucky seemed a bit dejected. Steve couldn't blame him; even he was a bit angry at how Dot had treated him. He was glad to have Bucky all to himself, but he didn't like seeing him humiliated like that. As they walked, he tried to think of something special he could do to cheer Bucky up. If Dot didn't want him, Steve would make sure Bucky remembered he did.

"You got the money for the train?" Bucky asked as they approached the ticket booth.

Steve stopped. "What? I thought you had it."

Bucky shook his head. "I just spent everything I had left on hotdogs. I thought you had the train money!"

"You have my wallet." Steve reminded him.

"What are you talking-" Steve saw a look of dread fall over Bucky's face as he reached in his pocket and pulled out the wallet. Steve grabbed it and opened it up to find it empty.

"You spent our train money!" he shouted.

"I thought you had it!" Bucky replied defensively. "You haven't paid for anything all day!"

"Yes I have!" Steve argued, waving the wallet in Bucky's face. He groaned in frustration. "We're going to have to walk home now!"

"It was an honest mistake!" Bucky ran a hand through his hair, looking around desperately for help. His gaze rested on something. He tapped Steve on the shoulder and pointed to a delivery truck parked across the street. "Hey isn't that the butcher shop near our apartment?

"Yeah," Steve confirmed warily.

He took hold of Steve's shoulder, pulling him off towards the truck. "Come on, I have an idea."

* * *

Bucky rubbed his hands together to warm them. It had been a stroke of luck that his friend Sal from the gym had been out on a delivery, but he was getting cold. Steve sat on the opposite side of the truck, hugging himself tightly. He glared at Bucky as he rubbed his hands up and down his arms.

"Oh come on, I'm sorry. It was an honest mistake," Bucky said again.

Steve didn't respond. He clutched his thin jacket tighter around his slender frame and hugged his knees to his chest. Bucky sighed. He felt like a heel for spending all their money trying to show off for Dot. Steve had been a peach today, and now they were both suffering because Bucky had let his ego get the better of him.

Steve shivered again. Bucky moved over to sit beside him. "Come over here," he said, gesturing for Steve to sit in his lap. "You'll catch cold.

"Because you hitched a ride in a freezer truck!" Steve growled, his teeth chattering.

"Would you rather walk? Come here." Grudgingly, Steve shifted over to sit between Bucky's legs. Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve to warm him, clutching Steve's frozen hands tightly. "Better?"

Steve nodded. Bucky nestled his chin on Steve's shoulder.

"I'm sorry about the train fare," he said softly, hugging Steve closer to him.

"If you hadn't been so stubborn we'd be riding the train right now," Steve grumbled.

"Yeah I know," Bucky admitted. "I don't say this enough, but thanks for putting up with me."

Bucky felt Steve lean back. "Like I have a choice," he muttered.

"You do, and you're still here." Bucky kissed his neck. "That means a lot to me."

The truck rolled to a stop. Steve scurried out of Bucky's lap as the doors opened.

"You still alive back there Barnes?" Sal asked. Bucky jumped down out of the truck. Steve followed him, stumbling on the landing and crashing into Bucky's arm.

"A little frozen, but we'll live," Bucky told him. "I owe you one."

Sal laughed. "You can buy me a beer sometime. I'll see you Tuesday."

"See ya!" Bucky called and he and Steve hurried upstairs. Bucky went to the kitchen for a glass of water as Steve flopped down on the couch to remove his shoes.

"Can you get me one too?" he asked.

Bucky poured another glass and went to join him. "How's your stomach?"

Steve belched. "Better. That hotdog was a little heavy."

Bucky leaned over to kiss him, tasting relish on his breath. "Thank you for coming with me. I know the day was kind of a mess, but I still had fun."

"Me too," Steve admitted. He took a sip of water. "I did like watching you shoot. I always do."

Bucky put an arm around Steve's shoulder. "I like having you there to watch me, even if I have a dozen girls cheering for me."

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky's neck and leaned in to kiss him. Bucky rested his hands on Steve's hips, reflecting on how lucky he was to have Steve. He couldn't imagine finding anyone else who would be willing to put up with all this. Steve deserved so much more than he could offer right now. Bucky wished he could put his doubts to rest and just be with him, but until then, he held on to these moments when the world around them seemed to disappear.

"I love you, Sweetheart," Bucky said, reaching up to caress his cheek.

Steve twirled a finger in the hair at the nape of his neck. "I love you too. Even when you do stupid stuff like this."

Bucky laughed and trailed a finger down Steve's neck to the top button of his collar. He deftly slipped the button out of the hole. "Now I believe you mentioned paying me back for that ice cream?"

"You paid for it with my money!" Steve protested, grabbing Bucky's tie playfully. "You should be paying me back!"

Bucky grinned. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Make me," Bucky challenged him. He stood up and lifted Steve off the couch, tossing him over his shoulder like a sack of laundry.

"I will!" Steve exclaimed as Bucky carried him off to the bedroom. Bucky laughed. Whoever came out on top, he had a feeling they were both going to win this one.

 **-End-**

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Please review and let me know what you think!


	10. Art

**A/N:** Just in case you missed it, I posted a Valentine's chapter a couple of weeks ago called Be My Valentine (I know, SUPER original title there). It was originally posted out of sequence and I have now moved it to chapter 7. It doesn't affect the plot, just some fluff and smut, so if you were feeling the need for more of either, check it out.

* * *

 **Art**

 _-Brooklyn, Late Summer 1937-_

Bucky found Steve sitting at the table sketching when he came home from work. The windows were open to let the breeze in, but it was still hot enough that Steve had stripped down to his underwear. Bucky bent down to kiss him on the cheek, setting the mail on the table. "Hi, Sweetheart."

Steve turned to kiss him on the lips. "How was work?" he asked, sorting through the small stack of letters.

Bucky stripped off his shirt and went to the refrigerator to get a beer. "Hot! What's for dinner?" Steve didn't respond. Bucky turned to see him holding a letter with a look of dread on his face. "What's wrong?"

"I got the tuition bill for school next semester," Steve groaned, handing it to Bucky.

Bucky scanned the letter, stunned by the total. "Woah, it's that much?"

"It went up and I don't have the money to cover the difference," Steve told him. "I was already going to be cutting it close."

Bucky opened the beer and sat down at the table. "What? I thought you said your Mom had saved up for this."

"She had, but I had to pay for the funeral and her medical bills, then moving expenses and art supplies," Steve explained. "I was hoping I could save up the rest, but with school I can't work as much as I thought."

"How much are you short?" Bucky asked.

"About $25 dollars," Steve moaned. "I'll never come up with that kind of money in time!"

"Well that's not so bad," Bucky said. "If we cut back on a few things and I pick up a few extra shifts this month, we can do it."

Steve shook his head. "Thanks, but I can't ask you to do that."

Bucky sipped his beer. "Who's asking me?"

"I can manage it on my own." Steve told him sharply.

Bucky held his tongue. He thought they had settled this argument when they moved in together, but it seemed like Steve was still hell bent on doing everything himself. He took a sip of his beer, considering the situation. If he pressed the issue now, Steve would just dig in his heels, but he couldn't stop Bucky from picking up an extra shift or two. What he did with the money was his own damn business.

"It's too hot to argue about this," he said to change the subject. "Let's just eat dinner and go for walk."

"Yeah, you're right." Steve agreed, opening the refrigerator. "It's too hot to cook. You want a chicken sandwich?"

"That sounds good," Bucky said. He sat back to finish his beer while Steve made dinner. Steve was stubborn, but maybe he would warm up to the idea if Bucky just left things alone for a few days. At the very least it would make the rest of the month a little more pleasant.

* * *

Steve wiped the dust cloth idly over the display in the front of the bookstore. Bucky hadn't brought up his tuition again, but Steve knew he wouldn't let it go so easily. The way things were going, Steve was almost tempted to take him up on his offer. He had been up half the night trying to think of some way to make up the difference, but he was at a loss. Nothing they owned was worth the amount of money he needed and he didn't have time to work anymore than he already did without his school work suffering. He knew Bucky would wouldn't mind, but he had done so much already. He couldn't keep relying on Bucky to save him every time his back was against the wall.

"Steven!" Mr. Zimmerman said sharply.

Steve's head shot up. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"I asked you to reshelve the books," Mr. Zimmerman repeated. "You have your head in the clouds today!"

Steve set down the cloth and hurried over to get the books. "I'm sorry. I have some problems at school and I got in an argument with my roommate yesterday."

Mr. Zimmerman frowned. "Oh, what sort of problems?"

"I'm a little short of my tuition," Steve told him, standing on his toes to put a book on the top shelf. "Bucky offered to help, but I can't ask him to do that. He's already helped me out so much."

"If he's offering then I don't think he would mind," Mr. Zimmerman said gently.

Steve shook his head, bending down to fix the bottom shelf. "No he wouldn't, but that's not fair to him."

Mr. Zimmerman tapped his pen on the counter. "Well, perhaps there is something I can do." Steve started to protest, but Mr. Zimmerman held up a hand. "You've been working here for a long time and I think I owe you a raise."

"Thank you!" Steve exclaimed, feeling the tension in gut ease a bit.

"You're a good worker, Steven. You've earned it," Mr. Zimmerman said with a proud smile.

Steve returned to his filing with a bounce in his step. He couldn't wait to tell Bucky. This wouldn't solve everything, but the extra money would certainly help. Maybe there was hope after all. As he finished reshelving the last of of the books, Becky rushed into the store.

"There you are!" she cried.

Steve set the books down and ran over to her. She was out of breath and her hair was disheveled. "Becky, what's wrong?"

"Bucky was in an accident at work," she cried, her voice shaking. "Mom sent me to get you!"

Steve felt his breath catch in his throat. He looked at Mr. Zimmerman.

"Yes, I'll manage here. Go see to your friend."

Steve hurried out the door and followed Becky down the street. "What happened?" he asked, struggling to keep pace with her.

"I don't know!" she said, leading him down into the subway. "We got a call saying he had been taken to the hospital. Mom went to see him and sent me to get you."

Steve paid the fare and they ran for the train, rushing through the doors just before they closed. The hospital was only two stops away but to Steve it seemed like years. What had Bucky been doing at work? He was off today and he had told Steve he would be at the gym.

Becky laid a trembling hand on his arm. Trying to keep his breathing steady, Steve reached out and put an arm around her shoulders. The last thing he needed right now was an asthma attack. If something serious had happened, he would be have to be strong for Bucky's family. He hugged Becky tighter and pushed the thought out of his head. Bucky was all he had left. He had to be alright.

The train stopped and they rushed out of the car, practically running the last half block to the hospital. They stopped at the desk to ask where Bucky had been taken and ran up the stairs. When they arrived, Bucky was sitting up in the bed having a spirited argument with his mother. His arm and hand were heavily bandaged, but otherwise he looked fine.

"It's not that bad Mom!"

"They sent you to the hospital Bucky!" Mrs. Barnes countered. "The doctor said you could have died it they hadn't gotten you here as quickly as they did. You're lucky you didn't lose an arm!"

Bucky rolled his eyes. "He's exaggerating. I'll be fine in a few of weeks."

"And you'll be staying at home until then," Mrs. Barnes told him firmly.

"Bucky!" Steve cried, gasping for breath.

"Steve! Did you run here! Sit down before you have an asthma attack!"

Mrs. Barnes poured Steve a glass of water from the pitcher beside the bed. Steve collapsed into the chair shaking from the excitement. "What happened?"

"I slipped and cut my hand," Bucky told him. "It's not as bad as it looks."

Steve sipped the water slowly as he tried to catch his breath. He wanted to ask Bucky what had even been doing at work, but he held his tongue. He knew exactly what Bucky had been up to and they couldn't have this argument in front of his family.

"I told him he's coming home so that I can look after him," Mrs. Barnes said, rubbing Steve's back with strong calming strokes. "You're welcome too of course."

"Mom, I told you, I don't need you to baby me!" Bucky protested.

"I can take care of him," Steve offered. "It's not like he's completely helpless."

Mrs. Barnes shook her head. "Steve dear, you have work and school. You don't need to worry about this."

"I'm fine!" Bucky insisted. "I just need a little help getting dressed."

"It's no trouble," Steve assured her. "And my mom was a nurse, I know how to change the bandage."

"Fine," Mrs. Barnes agreed reluctantly. "But you are coming over for dinner this week, no argument."

"Fine," Bucky muttered. "It was my night to cook anyway."

* * *

Steve helped Bucky out of the car and up the stairs to their apartment. It was only a few blocks, but they were both exhausted and Bucky's father had insisted on driving them. Steve opened the door to let them in. He helped Bucky sit down at the table and went to the sink to get Bucky a glass of water. He shook a pain pill out of the bottle and handed it to Bucky. Bucky popped it in his mouth and drank the glass of water, steeling himself for the impending fight.

"Before you say anything, it wasn't my fault," Bucky declared as Steve knelt down to take off Bucky's shoes. "A guy tripped and knocked into me."

"And why were you at work anyway?" Steve demanded, leading Bucky back to the bedroom. "You told me you were going to the gym."

"They needed a few people to cover some shifts so I volunteered," Bucky said.

Steve sighed. "This was about my tuition, wasn't it?"

"Yes, can we please fight about this tomorrow?" Bucky pleaded. "I'm tired and I feel stupid because now I have to pay the hospital bill."

"Bucky, I'll be fine. Please just worry about yourself." Steve grabbed the frame of his bed to drag it next to Bucky's for the night. Bucky took the other end with his good hand.

"I'm not helpless here either," Bucky said obstinately.

Steve smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Then you shouldn't have any problems getting undressed for bed."

Bucky scowled at him. "Stop being a jerk and help take my clothes off."

Steve chuckled, unbuttoning Bucky's shirt. "Did you want me to help you put anything on?"

"I'm too tired tonight, Sweetheart. This actually hurts a lot more than I said," Bucky admitted as Steve helped him remove his pants. He had played down the severity of his injury to his mother so that she would let him come home with Steve, but he had been worried.

Steve helped Bucky settle into the bed, using a spare blanket to prop up his arm. He undressed and crawled in beside him, laying his head on Bucky's chest. Bucky felt Steve squeeze him tightly and put an arm around his slender shoulders. After the accident as he watched the blood gush out of his arm with a sick fascination, his only thought had been what would happen to Steve if he died. Steve was strong but he had been through so much already losing his mother. Bucky couldn't bear to think of him having to go through that again.

"I'm ok," he whispered soothingly, kissing the top of Steve's head.

Steve curled his fingers in Bucky's chest hair. "When Becky told me you were hurt, for a minute, I was afraid I might lose you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Bucky rubbed his back gently. "Something stupid."

"Probably," Steve muttered, nestling his head against Bucky's chest. Bucky held him as they drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Bucky spent the next day in bed resting, but after that he started to get bored. The factory had insisted that he stay home until the stitches were removed, but aside from needing Steve's help to get dressed, he was doing just fine without the use of his left arm. Steve had taken over most of the chores so there wasn't much for him to do anyway. The only thing that bothered him was sitting at home alone all day while Steve was gone. Growing up with three siblings, Bucky had been lucky to get more than a few minutes to himself. Whenever he wanted some quiet he would go to Steve's but even then he was never really by himself. He had never realized how boring the silence could be.

A few days later, Bucky and Steve sat at the table eating breakfast. Steve had made coffee, but it was too hot to used the stove any more than necessary, so he had poured them both a bowl of cereal. Bucky preferred something more filling in the morning, but this was something he could fix himself if he got hungry later.

"So what are you doing today?" Bucky asked, sipping his coffee.

"I have class, until two," Steve told him, tilting his bowl to scoop up the last of the milk. "Life drawing, then art history."

Bucky finished his coffee. "Well since I'm off of work I'll walk you there."

"Are you sure you're up to it?"

"I feel fine," Bucky assured him. "And I could use a little exercise. I can't go to the gym and I've barely left the house since this happened."

"Ok, while you're out can you pick up some coffee? I used the last of it this morning."

Bucky nodded. "Anything else?"

Steve shook his head. "No, we're going to your parents' for dinner so we'll probably come home with half a chicken."

They finished their breakfast and got ready to leave. Steve helped Bucky with his shoes, then stood up and pulled him into a deep, hungry kiss. Bucky slipped his right arm around Steve's waist as Steve clung to him. Seeing Bucky in the hospital had rattled him and Steve had been extremely affectionate the last few days. Bucky felt bad for frightening him like that but he was enjoying the attention.

Finally Steve let him go and headed out the door. It was hot, but after being cooped up in the house, it was wonderful to be outside. His bandage itched in the heat, but otherwise the sun felt invigorating. The school was close and Bucky found himself a bit disappointed that the walk wasn't longer. Bucky followed Steve up to the classroom to say goodbye.

"Have a good day, punk."

"I'll see you later, jerk," Steve called, hurrying into the room. "Don't forget the coffee."

Bucky wandered back down the hall slowly, taking a minute to admire some of the art pieces on display. As he neared the stairs he noticed an older woman with unruly gray hair staring at him from down the hall. Bucky paused.

"Can I help you?" he asked, trying to be polite. He knew these artist types could be a little strange and he didn't want to offend her. She approached, still staring at him curiously.

"Are you a student?" she asked.

"No ma'am, my friend goes here," Bucky told her. "I was just walking him to class."

"Oh, well, you seem to be an impressive physical specimen," she mused, walking a circle around him. "Wrestler?"

"Boxer," Bucky told her, unable to hide a grin.

"Oh, I see," she mumbled, nodding her head in approval. "I think you'll do nicely. I teach a drawing class and my model for the studio tomorrow is ill."

Bucky raised an eyebrow. He was flattered, but he had never modeled before. "What would I have to do?"

"You just need to stand in the middle of the room for a few hours and let the students draw you."

Bucky considered the offer. Compared to boxing or working at the factory, it sounded easy. "Do I have to pose?"

"I think a boxing stance would be interesting," she suggested.

Bucky nodded, slowly as he mulled over the idea. "What should I wear?"

"It's a nude study," she said casually.

"You mean they'd be drawing me naked?" Bucky swallowed. "Thanks, but I don't really think I could." He started to walk away.

"I would pay you of course," she called. "And if you do well, I might be able to use on a regular basis."

Bucky stopped, glancing back in the direction that Steve had gone. Money was already tight and he couldn't really afford to turn down something like this just landing in his lap. Besides, he was bored and this was certainly more interesting than sitting around the apartment alone.

"Ok, what time tomorrow?"

"Nine in the morning. Bring a bathrobe." She hurried off down the hall without another word.

Trying to quell the flutter in his stomach, Bucky left to head to the store. Injured or not, if he forgot the coffee, Steve would have his head. He didn't know what he was going to tell Steve, but they needed the money. Bucky couldn't let him drop out of school anymore than he could stand back and watch him get beaten up in alley. Steve needed his help and he was going to get it whether he liked it or not.

* * *

The next morning Bucky finished his coffee as Steve started to clear the dishes. He still hadn't figured out how to tell Steve about the modeling job. As an art student, he certainly he wouldn't object to Bucky posing nude for a class, but Bucky didn't feel like arguing about money again. He would tell Steve later after he had something to show for it.

"Do you want to walk me to school again today?" Steve asked, running the water.

Bucky felt a surge of panic. "I'm feeling a little tired today," he lied.

A satisfied smirk spread over Steve's face. He leaned over the table looked seductively at Bucky. "Did I wear you out last night?"

Bucky stood up and kissed him. "Well I'm not complaining."

Steve took his empty mug and returned to the dishes. "I'll be home for lunch, but I have to work this evening so you're on your own for dinner."

"I'll go eat dinner with my parents."

Steve finished with the dishes and dried his hands. He gathered his things and headed for the door, pausing to kiss Bucky before he left. "Have a good day Sweetheart."

Bucky reached up and stroked his cheek gently. "You too."

Steve smiled and headed out the door. Bucky waited for a minute to give Steve a head start so they wouldn't run into each other. He went to the bedroom and stuffed his bathrobe in his gym bag. He took the bottle of whiskey out of the cabinet and took a swig to calm his nerves. His mother would faint if she saw him drinking this early, but he needed all the help he could get. Grabbing his bag as the whiskey hit his stomach, he took a deep breath and headed off to the school.

* * *

Steve settled into his seat and took out his materials. They were going to be sketching a nude model today. He was a little nervous, but if he wanted to be an artist, knowing how to draw people was an important skill. He sharpened his pencils and opened his sketchbook to a fresh sheet of paper as the professor came in to start class.

"Good morning everyone," she greeted them. "Today we will be starting our nude study. As an artist, familiarity with the human form is essential. Remember, you are trying not only to capture the form or your model, but their spirit. Every human being has a story and it is your job as an artist to tell that story without words. So, let's please thank our model for today, Mr. Barnes. I think you will find him to be quite an interesting subject."

Steve's head shot up. His mouth went dry as he saw Bucky walk into the room wearing a bathrobe. Their eyes met for a second but Bucky looked away quickly. He turned away to face the wall as he untied his robe. The fabric down the hard muscles of his shoulders, revealing his rippling back and firm round buttocks. Steve felt his pants grow tight and quickly raised his hand.

"May I be excused for a moment," he asked.

"Be quick please," the professor said. "You only have a few hours to work."

Grabbing his jacket to hide the telltale bulge, Steve hurried to the washroom. He turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face, leaning against the sink as he waited for his erection to subside. He had already been nervous about drawing a nude model but with Bucky in there he wasn't sure he could go through with this. Taking a deep breath, Steve stared at his reflection in the mirror.

"You're an artist Steve. Just draw your model. This is art, there's nothing to be nervous about, this is just about your art."

It wasn't just about art this time though; it was about Bucky. This was usually a part of Bucky that only he got to see, a part that he had to keep secret. This was a rare opportunity to share Bucky with the world in some small way. He knew the curves of Bucky's body better than any of the other students could hope to in a few hours. He might not be able to tell anyone about Bucky, but he could immortalize him. Steve dried his face and head back to the class, ready to show the world _his_ Bucky.

* * *

Bucky kept his eyes on the wall as Steve hurried out of the room. He hadn't realized Steve was in this class but there was no backing out now. Taking a deep breath Bucky dropped into a boxing stance as the class set to work. Steve returned a few minutes later and started sketching furiously. Bucky tried to ignore the scratching of pencil on paper and pictured himself in the ring. Being naked in a room full of art students felt strange but at least this pose was comfortable for him. When he boxed he was practically naked anyway. He focused on the space just beyond his fists. The sounds of the pencils became cheering fans as he tried to visualize some phantom opponent.

As the class continued Bucky found his focus starting slip. Every now and then the professor told him to rest for a minute, but he was still surprised at how much strength it took to hold his pose. After a while his attention started to wander and he looked around the room at the students. Most of the students looked at him like a statue, looking only at the lines of his body. He no longer felt so exposed, in fact, he started to feel nearly invisible. He might as well be a bowl of fruit for all they seemed to care. Only Steve seemed to look at him with anything besides cold objectivity, studying Bucky intently.

When the class finally ended, Bucky was exhausted. He was was confident in his stamina, but standing perfectly still for so long was more difficult than he had expected. As the students packed up their materials, he took a minute to stretch. He put his robe back on and went to change clothes, though after that it seemed a bit silly to cover up for the short walk down the hallway. As he opened the door, Steve came running out behind him. He pushed him into the small washroom, locking the door behind them.

"I thought you were tired," he said heatedly.

"I was just a little embarrassed to tell you," Bucky explained. "The usual model got sick and she saw me yesterday when I walked you to school. She paid me pretty well, I couldn't really turn it down."

Steve scowled at him. "Is this about my tuition?"

"Yes it is," Bucky admitted. "I just didn't want to fight about it this morning. I had no idea you were in the class."

Steve started to say something but stopped, glancing at the locked door. "Alright. We'll talk about this at home. Do you need help getting dressed?"

"I might need help tying my shoes, but I think I can manage the rest if you want to wait for me outside," Bucky said.

Steve didn't move. He looked at Bucky, biting his lip. "You know it was really difficult to focus today."

Bucky felt a shiver run down his back as Steve's fingers played with the knot of his sash. Licking his lips, he glanced over to be sure the door was locked. "You seemed pretty focused to me."

Steve grinned playfully, tugging at the sash of Bucky's robe. "Well, I couldn't stop thinking of all the things I wanted to do to you."

"Like what?" Bucky asked in a husky voice.

Steve stood up on his toes to kiss Bucky, untying the sash and letting the robe fall open. He reached down to wrap a hand around Bucky's cock, stroking it gently as he kissed his way slowly down Bucky's neck to his chest. Bucky felt himself stiffen, his body tingly with each kiss. Steve's tongue slowly circled a nipple. Sucking at it gently, he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the tip of Bucky's cock. Bucky jerked, thrusting into Steve's firm grip. Putting a hand on Steve's back to pull him close, Bucky leaned into kiss him. Aching with need, he rubbed his cock against Steve's pants, the feel of the rough cotton against his skin sending shivers through him. Steve arched into him one last time before pushing him back against the wall with a firm shove. Bucky felt a thrill of excitement at seeing Steve take charge. He leaned back against the wall letting Steve take the lead.

Kissing a trail down Bucky's stomach, Steve sank to his knees. Bending down, he kissed his way from Bucky's knee up his inner thigh. Bucky bit his lip to stifle a moan, remembering that they were in public. The door was locked, but that didn't mean they could be careless. Steve sucked gently on the head of his cock, sliding his mouth down to swallow the entire length. Bucky's legs started to tremble as the wet heat of Steve's mouth enveloped him. He put a hand against the wall to steady himself as Steve licked and sucked, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. He reached up and stroked Bucky's balls with a feathery touch before gently rolling them between his fingers. Stifling a groan, Bucky let his head fall back against the wall. Steve drew back letting Bucky's erection slip out of his mouth with a wet smack. He leaned in, dragging his tongue slowly up the underside of Bucky's cock from base to tip. Closing his lips around the head, he flicked his tongue quickly at the oozing slit. Bucky felt his groin tighten as he exploded into Steve's mouth. Steve sucked him clean, eagerly swallowing the gooey mess. He sat back, licking his lips.

"So are you still upset with me?" Bucky asked, his heart still racing.

"Yeah, I am," Steve told him reaching for Bucky's shorts. Bucky stepped into them, grinning as Steve pulled them up and buttoned them.

"If that's how you act when you're upset we need to fight more often!"

"I had to get that out of my system." Steve grumbled, helping Bucky with his pants. "I can't be angry with you when I want to lick your chest!"

Bucky laughed as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. "I'll have to keep that in mind."

"We're still going to talk about this later," Steve warned him sternly.

"Can we do this after we fight too?" Bucky asked. Steve didn't answer, but Bucky could see a thin smile on his lips as he bent down to tie Bucky's shoes.

* * *

Steve dropped his things by the door as they entered the apartment and went to the kitchen. Their rendezvous in the washroom had only postponed the inevitable, but he still didn't want to argue on an empty stomach.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the modeling job," Bucky said, taking a seat at the table.

"Why did you even feel like you had to do that?" Steve said as he sliced up the leftover ham for sandwiches.

"With things the way they are, I couldn't really afford to turn it down," Bucky said. "She said she could use me a few times a week while I'm off work. I can almost cover your tuition at that!"

Steve slapped the knife down on the counter. "You don't have to take care of me, Bucky. I'm not your wife."

"I know that," Bucky said with an exasperated sigh. "But you're a good artist Steve. I don't want you to have to give that up."

"I'm not going to let you kill yourself just so I can draw," Steve snapped.

"Stipping down for a bunch of artists is hardly going to kill me."

Steve shoved the plate toward Bucky. "No but that cut on your arm could have!"

"This could have happened anytime," Bucky argued.

Steve sat down and tore a large bite out of his sandwich, chewing fiercely while he tried to think of how to respond. Seeing Bucky in the hospital had frightened him. He would never have forgiven himself if Bucky had died trying to help him.

Bucky set his sandwich down on the plate. "Sweetheart, I know you're tough, it's one of the things I love about you, but you've worked so hard for this and I just wanted to help.

"And what are you giving up to do it?" Steve asked.

"Nothing," Bucky told him. "I never had a dream like this. I just wanted to get a job, move out of my parents' place, and find someone special." Bucky reached across the table to take Steve's hand. "Seeing you happy is my dream. So what if we stop worrying about who's paying for what and who's supporting who."

Steve put down his sandwich, staring curiously at Bucky. "What do you mean?"

"That's how this should work, right? If you were a dame I'd be supporting us while you took care of the house. It's the same thing."

Steve looked am, confused. "Are you saying I need to start doing all the housework?"

"No!" Bucky said quickly. "I'm saying what if we were just in this together? Stop worrying about who does more and just do what's best for both of us. Like this week, you've been taking care of me while my arm heals just because I needed your help. Why can't I do that for you?"

"That's different," Steve insisted.

"No it's not!" Bucky argued. "This isn't a competition Steve. One of us is always going to make more money than the other. Right now that's me, but one day when you're a famous artist, maybe I can quit my job and we can go to Paris and Italy and I'll sit around drinking wine while you draw."

Steve looked at his half eaten sandwich. "What if this doesn't last that long?"

"I'm willing to gamble on you," Bucky said. "So will you please let me help you?"

"You're right," Steve relented, squeezing Bucky's hand. "I guess I'm still used to doing things on my own sometimes."

Bucky brought Steve's hand to his lips "And I'm not looking to swoop in every time you stumble on the sidewalk, but if I see you in trouble, I can't just sit back and watch."

"Thank you," Steve said. "But even with my raise and you modeling, I'm not sure we'll be able to come up with the money."

Bucky leaned over to kiss him. "We'll talk about it tomorrow, I'm sure we can think of something, even if we have to sell the radio."

Steve grinned and release Bucky's hand to finished his sandwich.

* * *

The morning had been exhausting, so Bucky decided to rest up for a bit before he went to his parents. He picked up a book but he couldn't seem to focus on the story. It was a relief to have things with Steve settled, but that still left the problem of how they were actually going to get the money for his tuition. He closed the book and looked it over. It was in good condition and would probably fetch a decent price but he knew Steve would be reluctant to sell any of their books. Nothing they owned was really going sell for the kind of money they needed. He sighed, rubbing his forehead. After all that, he might not be able to help.

He set the book on the table and went to comb his hair. Sitting here agonizing over this wasn't going to help. Talking to his mother for a bit might at least help clear his head. He went over to his parents' and found his mother was in the kitchen. The smell of beef and carrots simmering in the pot filled the room.

"Hi Mom," he called. He kissed her on the cheek and grabbed a plum from the basket on the table.

"Hi Honey," she said, covering the pot. "I didn't expect you this early."

Bucky bit into the juicy plum. It was refreshing after the walk over. "You need any help? I'm actually a pretty decent cook these days."

His mother shook her head but he caught a glint of pride in her smile. "This just has to simmer. Would you like some lemonade?"

"That sounds great," Bucky said. He scraped the last bit of the plum off of the pit with his teeth and tossed it in the trash.

"Is Steve coming?" his mother asked, handing him a cold glass.

Bucky shook his head. "He has to work."

"That's a shame. Could you get me the pie dish out of the top cabinet?" his mother asked. "I'll make a pie and you can take the rest home for him."

Bucky set his lemonade down and opened the cabinet to get the dish. "His favorite is cherry, if you have it."

His mother opened the cabinet and took out a jar of cherries and the sugar. "How's he doing with his art?"

Bucky sighed. "He getting pretty good, but can't pay his tuition for next semester."

"Oh no!" his mother exclaimed.

"I tried to pick up a few extra shifts and help him out, but then this happened," he said, holding up his injured arm.

Buckys mother set the mixing bowl on the counter and bent down to open the cabinet under the sink. She took out an old coffee can, removing a small stack of bills from it. "Will that cover it?" she asked, handing the money to Bucky.

Bucky whistled in amazement as he counted out the money. It was more than he made in a month. "And next semester to boot!" He tapped his fingers nervously. "You don't have to. He might not even accept it."

"I promised his mother on her deathbed that I would watch out for him," his mother said firmly. "I'm not going to let him give up his education over a little money."

Bucky kissed her on the cheek and put the money safely in his pocket. "Thanks Mom."

She laughed. "Thank me by getting the butter."

* * *

Bucky was coming out of the bathroom wearing his robe when Steve got home. Steve kissed him and went to the bedroom to change. "How was dinner?"

"Good," Bucky called. "Mom made a cherry pie. I brought the rest home for us."

"Great!" Steve said. He folded up his clothes and headed back to the living room. "So it was a slow night at work and I was going over our budget. I think with my raise and you modeling, if we cut back a bit on groceries and eat with your parents we can-" Steve trailed off as Bucky handed him a stack of worn bills. "What's this?"

"Your tuition for the semester."

Steve took the stack of money and counted it out. It was enough for the entire semester. He gaped at Bucky. "How did you get this?"

"My Mom gave it to me."

Steve shook his head and handed the money back to him. "Bucky I can't-"

"Don't even think about," Bucky cut him off, shoving the money back into his hand. "You'll break her heart."

Steve smiled and went to the bedroom for a minute. He opened the top drawer of the dresser and took out a small box. He returned to the living room. "Can I at least give her something to say thank you?"

Bucky took the box and opened it to find a delicate gold bracelet set with lapis stones. "Steve!" he admonished. "You could have sold this you moron!"

"It was Mom's," Steve told him. "Dad got it for her before he shipped out for France. I couldn't bear to think of it sitting in a pawn shop, but it shouldn't be in my sock drawer either. Your mom always like it."

Bucky kissed him. "You drive me crazy sometimes."

Steve laughed, slipping his arms around Bucky's waist. "I know."

"So, can I see it?" Bucky asked.

Steve frowned. "See what?

Bucky blushed faintly. "The drawing."

Steve went to get his sketch book and opened it to the picture of Bucky. "I feel like I didn't get the lines quite right,"

"No it's good," Bucky said. "No wonder you were ready to grind my coffee after class."

"Thanks, but I could still use a little more practice," Steve said sliding his hands inside Bucky's bathrobe. He traced the lines of Bucky's hips his with fingers. There was something about them he hadn't been quite able to capture.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "You want me to pose for you?"

"You did it for the class," Steve purred, slightly stroking Bucky's bare hip.

Bucky traced a finger along Steve's jaw. '"I got paid for that."

Steve stood up on his toes until their lips were almost touching. "I'll make it worth your while."

"I'm going to hold you to that," Bucky vowed.

His heart pounding, Steve took his sketchpad and turned to a clean sheet. "Lie on the couch and put your arm back behind you," he instructed. Bucky started to take off his robe. "No leave it on," Steve told him.

"Leave it on?" Bucky asked.

Steve set down his sketch pad. He went over and untied Bucky's robe, pushing it open show Bucky's muscular form. "Like that."

Bucky kissed him and lay down on the couch. "You'd better get in this picture with me later."

Steve swallowed as he felt a flutter of excitement in his stomach. He pulled the robe aside to expose more of Bucky's hip and draped it off the edge of the couch. Trying to calm himself, he sat down in the chair across the room and started to sketch the chiseled lines of Bucky's chest.

"This seems a little unfair," Bucky said. "You're going to have all these pictures of me and I won't have any of you."

Steve smirked as he looked up to study the curve of Bucky's powerful thighs. "Well you know, next semester is my self portrait class."

 **-End-**

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!

Izzie: Thank you! I don't want the smut to detract from the story, but I'll do what I can!


	11. Plum

**A/N:** sorry for the lack of updates! I have been dealing with some non-serious but very distracting medical issues and have not been able to focus well. This isn't the chapter I intended to give you but it's been a while and that one's being a pain, so I whipped up a little fluff and smut interlude to tide you over.

* * *

 **Plum**

 _-Brooklyn, Late Summer 1937-_

Steve finished sweeping the shop and set the broom by the register. He started straightening up the front display as Mr. Zimmerman came out of the back room with his hat and jacket.

"Steven, I need you to watch the shop for a while. I must to run to the post office. "

"Yes, sir," Steve replied, kneeling down to pick up a misplaced book.

"I won't be long," Mr. Zimmerman called as the door swung close.

Steve finished straightening the display and took his sketchbook out from under the register. He opened it to a sketch of the store he had been drawing and continued working. School was on break for the rest of the summer, but he could use the practice. This semester had taught him how much he still had to learn if he wanted to be a real artist. He sketched in silence, carefully studying the the afternoon shadows. He was almost done when Bucky came in.

"Hey Steve. How's work been today?"

"A little slow," Steve replied, closing his sketchbook. "Mr. Zimmerman had to run an errand so I've been drawing."

Bucky looked around. "Anything new?" he asked, wandering over to one of the shelves in the back.

"We have a couple things I think you'd like," Steve said, following him. He scanned the shelves for something that might interest Bucky. As he reached up to get a book off a high shelf, Bucky slipped a hand around his waist and kissed his neck. "Bucky, I'm at work!" Steve chastised him.

"Yeah, it's kind of exciting, right?" Bucky whispered in his ear, tugging at the knot of his tie.

Steve pushed him back. "I'm not being paid to make out with you!"

"Who's gonna know?" Bucky asked. He bent down to kiss Steve as the door opened. Bucky stepped back as Steve whirled around to grab a book off the shelf.

"Ok, I think you'll like this one," Steve said, trying to pretend they were in the middle of the conversation.

"Steven?" Mr. Zimmerman called.

"I'm over here," Steve said, stepping out in view of the door. "Just helping a customer."

"Carry on then!" Mr. Zimmerman instructed him as he headed to the back. Steve led Bucky over to the register and rang up the book.

"70 cents."

Scowling, Bucky fished the money out of his pocket. Steve smirked. It served him right for trying to pull that here. He counted out the change and handed Bucky the book. Bucky took it and stalked out of the store.

"I'll see you later. Try not to burn the chicken," Steve called after him.

* * *

The light was starting to fade as Steve made his way home. He should have been upset about what happened at the store, but he was too amused that Bucky had literally had to pay for his mistake. Besides, between work and school he had been distracted lately and he couldn't blame Bucky for wanting a little attention.

Rounding the corner, he passed a fruit stand and paused for a moment to look at the selection. It was late summer and the apples would be coming in soon, but the summer fruit was still fresh. He selected a couple of ripe pears for himself and looked at the plums. He picked one up and squeezed it gently. It was firm but not too hard, just the way Bucky liked them. He selected a few and paid the vendor. Placing them carefully in a bag, he continued home.

* * *

Steve came home just as Bucky was taking the chicken out of the oven. It was perfectly crisp and only slightly burned on the top. He transferred it to a platter while Steve changed and set everything on the table.

"Smells amazing," Steve complimented him, kissing him on the cheek.

"So about earlier," Bucky began, pouring them each a glass of wine.

"I think you learned your lesson," Steve cut him off with an amused grin.

"What did I even buy?" Bucky picked up the book from the table. "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes?" He chuckled. "Well I'm no gentleman, but I prefer redheads myself."

"Jerk," Steve muttered, rolling his eyes as they sat down to eat.

Bucky served the chicken and took a bite. It was a little dry, but fare more edible than the porkchops he had burned last week.

"Do you want to see a movie after dinner?" Steve asked, pouring some gravy over his chicken.

"Sure, but you're paying," Bucky told him. "I just had to spend 70 cents on a book!"

Steve chuckled and sipped his wine.

"What if we just stay in and read?" Bucky suggested. "I'd like to save what I have left of my paycheck."

Steve's smile slipped and his hand tightened on his glass. Bucky took a sip of his wine, steeling himself for the coming argument.

"What's her name?"

"Martha," Bucky muttered. "I told you about this one already. I'm taking her dancing tomorrow."

"Do I have to go?" Steve grumbled.

"You can if you want, but she didn't have any friends to set you up with." Bucky held his breath, but Steve seemed almost relieved.

"I think I'll just stay in."

Bucky eyed him warily. "You're really ok with me going out without you?"

"Yes it's fine," Steve assured him firmly. "It's been a long week and I'd rather just stay in and read my book. You go have fun."

Bucky nodded and turned his attention back to his dinner. He was a little disappointed that Steve wasn't coming dancing, but forcing Steve to endure a night of standing alone against the wall of a dance hall wouldn't be much fun for either of them. He wanted to spend some time together before Steve went back to school, but they could do that another time. As long as Steve was alright with it, he was going to enjoy his evening.

* * *

Steve awoke with Bucky's arms wrapped tightly around him. Bucky stirred, as he snuggled closer. As he felt Bucky's hand slide down to his hip, he glanced at the clock to see how much time they had.

"Damn it, I forgot to set the alarm!" He pushed Bucky away and rolled out of bed. "We're going to be late! Can you start breakfast while I get ready?"

Bucky nodded sleepily as Steve went to shower. He turned the cold water on full blast to wake himself up before turning on the hot water to scrub away the sweat. Early mornings didn't usually bother him, but it had been a long week. He was actually looking forward to having a quiet night alone with a good book, even if Bucky was going to be out with some floozy.

He dried off and put on his clothes. Bucky was just finishing up breakfast when he entered the kitchen. They ate quickly and Steve packed their lunches while Bucky got ready for work. He craved up some chicken for sandwiches and took one of the plums out of the bag to check it. It was perfectly ripe. He had forgotten to tell Bucky about them, but it would be a nice surprise later. He set the plum in with the sandwich and closed up the boxes just as Bucky returned.

"Here's your lunch," Steve said.

Bucky took it and headed for the door, pausing briefly for a kiss. "Have a good day Sweetheart."

"You too," Steve said, fixing Bucky's collar. He followed Bucky down the hall, already eager for the day to be over.

* * *

Bucky stretched, rubbing his arm as the whistle blew for lunch. It had healed, but the scar was still a bit tender. Sometimes it would pull and itch, especially in this heat, but a quick rest would help that. He followed the others to the locker room and took out his lunch pail. He opened it to find a sandwich and a plum. Smiling, Bucky squeezed the plum gently, breathing in the scent of the ripe fruit. Steve must have picked it up on the way home from work yesterday. He hated plums but he always did a good job of picking them.

He unwrapped his sandwich, saving the plum for last. He wanted to savor it. After their spat in the bookstore, he was a bit surprised to find it there. Steve was thoughtful, but he could also be petty when he was upset. Bucky thought back to yesterday as he bit into the juicy flesh of the plum. He had been out of line, but the last few weeks he felt as though they had barely seen each other. With school out until the fall, Steve had picked some extra shifts at the bookstore. Bucky had made plans with Martha, thinking that Steve would be working late. When he realized Steve was working earlier, he had hoped he might come dancing. He knew that Steve didn't always enjoy the dance hall but Bucky wanted them to spend some time together before classes started again.

Bucky scrapped off the last of the plum and threw the pit away. He sat there for a moment, letting the sweet taste of the juice lingered on his tongue. He had been looking forward to his date, but if Steve didn't want to come, maybe he shouldn't go. It wasn't like he'd never get another chance to go dancing. Bucky glance at the clock and put his lunch pail away. Digging some money out of his pocket, he went to the pay phone and called Martha.

"Hello?"

"Hi Martha? It's Bucky."

"Oh Bucky! How are you?"

For a moment Bucky was tempted to forget the whole thing, but it was so rare that he and Steve had a peaceful moment together these days. "Listen, something came up and I can't make it tonight. Can I take you out next Wednesday?"

There was a pause on the other end. "Sure that'd be fine," Martha said finally.

"Thanks, you're a doll." Bucky replied. "I'll see you Wednesday."

Bucky hung up as the bell rang to signal the end of lunch. Martha had sounded disappointed but not too upset. He might still have a shot if he turned on the charm Wednesday, but tonight he hoped Steve would appreciate the surprise.

* * *

Steve trudged up the steps to the apartment. He was looking forward to a cold bath and an early night. Part of him was annoyed that Bucky was on a date, but he was too exhausted to worry about it. He just wanted to sit down and relax. He opened the door to find Bucky reading a book on the couch dressed in a suit.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asked.

"Waiting for you." Bucky put down the book and came over to kiss Steve. Steve hugged him tightly as the fatigue seemed to drain out of him.

"Why aren't you on your date?"

"I rescheduled," Bucky told him cheerfully. "I feel like I've barely seen you lately."

Steve kissed him. "I'm sorry I've been working so much lately."

"You got nothing to apologize for," Bucky assured him. "I just want to spend some time with you while I can and since I already planned to take someone to dinner tonight, might as well be you."

"Are you sure you can afford that after buying that book yesterday?" Steve teased him.

Bucky put his arms around Steve's waist. "Sure, if you don't mind eating chipped beef for dinner next week."

Steve ginned. "I'll survive."

Bucky kissed him again and they headed out to the restaurant. It was a bit nicer than their usual diner, but Bucky insisted that he wanted to go somewhere special. They sat at a table in the corner covered with a bright white table cloth. Hidden from prying eyes, Bucky reached under the table to hold Steve's hand while they looked over the menu.

Dinner was good, if a bit expensive. Bucky tried to talk him into desert, but Steve nearly fainted when he saw the price. He suggested they get ice cream instead. Bucky agreed and paid the bill.

The sun was setting as they headed down the street an ice cream shop a few blocks away. Bucky insisted on paying, so Steve waited outside while he went in to get them each a cone. He returned and handed Steve a strawberry cone. They walked back toward their apartment, eating in comfortable silence. Steve finished his and licked a drop of melted ice cream off his finger.

"This was great Bucky, but what made you change your mind?"

"I found the plum in my lunch." Bucky replied, polishing off the rest of the cone.

Steve looked at him incredulously. "You canceled your date over fruit?"

"No! It just-" Bucky looked around and took Steve's hand, leading him into a secluded alley. He looked around to be certain they were alone, then brushed Steve's cheek lightly with the back of his hand. "It's not the plum. You always do things like that for me, even when I'm being an ass and I just wanted you to know I appreciate it.

Steve blushed. "You don't have to cancel your date for that."

"And you don't have to buy plums." Bucky put his arms around Steve and leaned to kiss his neck.

"We're in public," Steve cautioned him gently, tugging at Bucky's shirt. It was risky, but he didn't want Bucky to stop.

"I'll be quick," Bucky promised, nibbling Steve's ear. He pulled Steve's shirt free and unbuttoned his pants, slipping his hand inside

"Not too quick," Steve gasped as Bucky wrapped a hand around his cock. He let himself relax as Bucky caressed him with slow firm strokes. If he had learned anything growing up in Brooklyn, it was that no one really paid attention to what happened in an alley. Bucky took his hand away and quickly unbuttoned his own pants. Steve glanced down, biting his lip eagerly. Bucky was already hard. Steve stroked him lightly, feeling Bucky's cock twitch under his touch. He wouldn't last long but they both needed this right now.

Bucky kissed him, rubbed his stiff erection against Steve's. Steve shuddered and threw his arms around Bucky's neck, arching his hips into Bucky's groin. Bucky slipped a hand under his ass and lifted him up, propping him against the wall. Steve wrapped his leg around Bucky's hips as Bucky thrust his hard erection against Steve's, kissing his neck hungrily. Steve moaned as the warm friction of skin on skin sent shudders of pleasure through him.

"Quiet, someone will hear us," Bucky whispered, his breath tickling Steve's ear. Steve grabbed the back of Bucky's head and pulled him into a kiss as Bucky's hand wrapped around both of them. He clung tightly to Bucky's shirt as he thrust into his hand. A moment later, he felt Bucky tense up as he came. Steve squirmed in Bucky hand, eager for his own release as Bucky kissed him breathlessly.

"Sorry," he said, wiping his hand on his shirt. "I think I'm a bit excited."

He set Steve down and turned him to the wall. He put one arm around Steve's waist to pull him close and grabbed his cock, finishing him off with a few quick strokes. His legs shaking, Steve leaned his head back against Bucky's chest, basking the warmth of Bucky's arms around him.

"We should do this more often," Steve panted.

Bucky kissed his neck. "Have sex in an alley?"

Steve fixed his clothes and turned around to kiss Bucky. "Go out together, just us."

"We could still go dancing," Bucky suggested.

"Let's go home," Steve said. "I want to dance with you."

Bucky put an arm around his shoulder as they headed out of the alley. "Whatever you want, Sweetheart."

 **-End-**


	12. Sinners and Saints

**Sinners and Saints**

* * *

-Brooklyn, Fall 1937-

Steve shivered as the crisp autumn wind cut through his shirt. He had given his coat to his date, but he was looking forward to getting it back. He never understood why dames couldn't dress warmly enough. At least her place was close.

The movie had been good and his date had actually been pleasant for once, not that he'd been paying much attention. Bucky's date had dragged him out into the alley halfway through the movie. Steve had spent most of the movie imagining all the wanton things they were doing, but it wasn't worth ruining a nice evening over. They dropped the girls off and headed for their apartment. Bucky put an arm around Steve's shoulders to warm him up as they walked.

"I'd give you my jacket too, but it'd look weird," Bucky said.

"It's fine," Steve assured him stiffly. "We're almost home. How far did this one let you get?"

"Do we really have to talk about this right now," Bucky muttered reluctantly.

"Just tell me," Steve grumbled.

"If I tell you, you're just going to get mad at me."

"I'll get mad if you don't," Steve argued.

"Fine," Bucky agreed. "But can I talk to my best friend for a minute."

Steve took a deep breath. "Ok. What did you do with her?"

Bucky looked around, lowering his voice secretively. "She let me go all the way," he bragged, unable to hide a grin.

Steve forced a smile. Bucky was still his best friend and he didn't want him to start hiding things. Besides, he was curious. "So what was it like?"

Bucky shrugged. "It was ok, kind of awkward. She seemed a bit disappointed when we were done."

"Are you sure you were doing it right?" Steve teased. Bucky put him in a headlock.

"Never heard you complain!" he growled.

Steve broke out of the hold laughing. "Did you wear a raincoat at least?" he asked as they continued walking.

"You're damn right," Bucky muttered. "I don't think that was her first time."

"What makes you say that?" Steve asked.

"She kept telling me what to do!"

Steve laughed. If she was that particular, the odds of Bucky seeing her again were slim.

"So how was your date?" Bucky asked.

Steve shrugged. "Nice enough. She let me hold her hand. I didn't try to push my luck."

"Just as well. I need you to fill me in on the movie just in case my mom asks."

Steve smirked. "It was good. You should actually watch it sometime."

Bucky laughed and threw and arm around Steve's shoulder as they continued through the chilly streets.

* * *

Bucky followed Steve up the stairs, fishing his key out of his pocket. The door closed and Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky's neck.

"Up for another round or did she wear you out?" he asked in a sultry voice.

Bucky rested his hands on Steve's hip, a bit surprised by the sudden turn around. He had expected Steve to pout a bit longer. "So you're not mad at me?"

"I was," he said, tugging at Bucky's tie. "But Cary Grant always puts me in a forgiving mood."

"So it takes Cary Grant to get you going?" Bucky teased.

"Only because he kind of reminds me of you," Steve replied coyly.

Bucky kissed him, undoing the knot in his tie. Steve pushed him back.

"Clean up first, I'll make the beds."

Bucky hurried to the bathroom and stripped down. He took a quick shower and splashed on a dash of aftershave to mask any hint of his previous encounter. He headed to the bedroom to find Steve in bed waiting for him, already undressed.

"We should go see Cary Grant films more often," Bucky said, climbing into bed. He pulled Steve into a deep kiss, sliding his hand up Steve's thigh. Steve pulled back for a moment and moved down to lick Bucky's throat. He kissed a trail down Bucky's chest, nipping playfully at his nipple. Bucky gasped as Steve pushed him back on the bed and straddled his hips.

"I feel like I should be doing this to you," Bucky chuckled, running his fingers up Steve's arm.

"I wanted to try something," Steve purred, leaning over to kiss Bucky's neck.

"Oh?"

Steve sat back. Looking at him shyly. "Do you remember last year when we, um," Steve fumbled for the words.

"Sweetheart." Bucky stroked Steve's arm. "After all the things we've done you need to be more specific."

"The time I let you do the back scuttle," Steve mumbled shyly.

Bucky frowned. "It this about me boiling that dame's cabbage?"

"No!" Steve protested.

Bucky looked at him skeptically. "Really? You're not just jealous?"

"Why would I be?" Steve whispered in Bucky's ear. "She had you for five minutes in a dirty alley. I have you all night and you're going to make me breakfast."

"Last time we tried it, you cut me off for months!" Bucky reminded him.

"I wasn't ready then," Steve said, lacing their fingers together. "But a lot's changed. I've actually been thinking about this lately and I just haven't had the guts to bring it up."

Bucky brought Steve's hand to his lips. "Maybe we should talk about this tomorrow. We don't have to rush it." He was trying to hold back, but if Steve kept this up he was going to throw him on the bed and hump him senseless.

"What if I do it to you?" Steve suggested.

"What?" Bucky looked at him, stunned. He hadn't even considered offering himself up, and honestly he wasn't sure he wanted to. "Does it hurt?" he asked nervously.

"You might be a little sore tomorrow," Steve admitted, "but if I go slow you'll be fine."

"Do you know what you're doing?" Bucky asked.

"Did you?" Steve asked.

"No, and look what happened!"

"Sweetheart, that was last year," Steve said, tracing a finger down his chest. "A lot's changed."

Bucky looked at Steve. He couldn't really see a reason to say no. "Do we have any Crisco left?"

"I'll look," Steve ran to the kitchen and returned a moment later with the cannister. "I'll buy a new one Monday."

"Are you sure about this?" Bucky asked again, as Steve pried the lid off.

Steve kissed him. "Trust me."

Bucky nodded. He lay back and opened his legs as Steve scooped out a glob of shortening. This wasn't at all how he had expected to end the night and he still wasn't sure it was a good idea. They had fumbled their way blindly through everything, not always with the best results. Now that they finally seemed to be in a good place, he didn't want to risk spoiling things.

Steve knelt between his legs, kissing the inside of his thighs softly as he moved down to take Bucky's cock into his mouth. Bucky tried to relax as Steve sucked him gently, moaning softly as Steve's tongue lapped at the tip. Slowly, Steve pressed a greasy finger inside of him. Bucky gripped the sheets, biting his lip as Steve pushed in further.

"Stop clenching," Steve told him.

"I can't help it, you have your finger in my ass!" Bucky snapped.

Steve removed his finger and sat back for a moment. "What if you get on your hands and knees? I think that might be easier."

Bucky rolled over onto his knees. The posture felt undignified, but he had agreed to give this a try. Steve knelt behind him, he started to stroke Bucky's cock slowly before pressing a finger in again. It was easier in this position, though still a bit odd. Bucky rested his forehead on his forearms, trying to breathe as Steve pressed another finger inside. All he could think about was the size of Steve's cock. It was one thing to have Steve stick a couple of fingers inside of him, but Steve was too big for Bucky to fit in his mouth; he wasn't sure how it was going to fit in his ass.

Steve took his fingers out and leaned over to kiss Bucky's neck. "Sweetheart, you need to relax."

"I'm trying!" Bucky growled. "I'm worried that kidney buster of yours is going to split me open!"

Steve laughed. "Bucky, it'll be fine."

He slipped his fingers back in, deeper inside this time, brushing against something. Bucky gasped. He looked back at Steve who was grinning.

"Found it."

Bucky laid his head on the pillow, as Steve wiggled his fingers around. Bucky shuddered as he rubbed against whatever it was. Steve rubbed it again and again until Bucky came. Panting for breath, Bucky leaned his head against the pillow for a moment until his legs stopped quivering.

Steve leaned over and kissed the middle of his back. "Ready?"

"Just be careful," Bucky mumbled.

"Let me know if it hurts."

Bucky nodded, taking a deep breath as Steve push slowly into him. It didn't hurt, but it was odd.

"Is that ok," Steve asked.

"Is that all of it?" Bucky asked.

Steve leaned over, lazily stroking his cock. "Just tell me if it starts to hurt."

Bucky took a deep breath, trying to relax as he adjusted to the feeling of having Steve inside him. After a minute Steve started to move. It hurt a bit at first, but the discomfort began to subside as Steve settled into a smooth rhythm. He moaned as Steve found the same spot from before, his cock brushing against it as he thrust in and out with slow strokes. Bucky tried to wrap his mind around the sensation. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was a bit emasculating to let someone fuck him like this. Even so, there was something strangely liberating about trusting someone enough to be this vulnerable.

He felt Steve's fingers dig into his hips as he sped up. A moment later Steve cried out and slumped forward onto his back. Bucky groaned, aching for release. He was so close. If only Steve could have just lasted a bit longer. Kissing his shoulder, Steve slipped out of Bucky and guided him to lie down on his back. He bent down to finish him with his mouth. Sticking two fingers back inside him, he rubbed firmly against the spot. Bucky shot off into Steve's mouth, a shiver of ecstasy rippling through his body.

Steve licked him clean and crawled up to lie beside him. "How was that?"

"It was weird, but it wasn't bad," Bucky said, slipping an arm around Steve's thin shoulder. "I like some of the other stuff we do better, but I wouldn't mind doing it again."

Steve craned his neck up for a kiss. "Maybe if we practice it'll feel better."

Bucky laughed. "Worth a shot."

* * *

Steve yawned as the morning sun shone in his eyes. Beside him Bucky rolled back over. Steve kissed him, sleepily rubbing his erection against Bucky's leg.

"I can tell you what you're not doing with that," Bucky mumbled.

"Guess that answers my next question," Steve chuckled, running a hand through Bucky's hair.

Bucky winced. "I don't think I'll be able to sit right for a week."

Steve sighed and rolled out of bed. "Fine, I'll just do it in the shower."

"Where are you going," Bucky asked. "It's Sunday?"

"We promised your mother we'd go to Mass," Steve reminded him. At dinner last week it had come out that neither of them had been to Mass since they moved into the apartment. His mother had nearly fainted. Bucky groaned, burying his face in his pillow.

"Do we have to?"

"Unless you want to sit through another lecture about our immortal souls, get dressed," Steve said. "And it's your morning to cook breakfast."

"After what I let you do to me last night, you owe me breakfast," Bucky muttered.

Steve just laughed as he headed off to the bathroom.

* * *

Steve stifled a yawn as Father Carlisle approached the pulpit. He had been looking forward to this, but the new priest was a bit dull. A bored but respectful silence fell over the congregation as the sermon began.

"Just as Sodom and Gomorrah and the surrounding cities, which likewise indulged in sexual immorality and pursued unnatural desire, serve as an example by undergoing a punishment of eternal fire," Father Carlisle quoted. Steve raised an eyebrow. He hadn't really been paying attention to the readings earlier but he didn't remember hearing that. Bucky's face was ashen as Father Carlisle continued.

"Eternal damnation awaits those who put the pleasures of the flesh before the will of God. Fornicators and Sodomites who indulge their hedonistic desires with no thought to the needs of the soul. One cannot hope to enter the kingdom of Heaven if they devote their life to sinful pursuits!"

Steve listened to the sermon with a queasy feeling in his stomach as Father Carlisle railed against the sins of the flesh and the abomination of unnatural lust. Mrs. Barnes covered Robert's ear with a scandalized look on her face. Grace listened intently, unaware but curious. Mr. Barnes looked appropriately solemn while Becky stared intently at her gloves. Steve cringed. Of all the Sundays to come, they had to pick this one.

There was a collective sigh of relief as the sermon ended. Steve barely paid attention to the rest of the mass, rattling off the prayers and responses from memory. As they filed out of the church, Bucky and Steve hung back in stunned silence.

Becky smirked. "Wasn't that appropriate? First time at mass in months and he wrote the sermon just for you."

Steve felt his breath catch. "What's that supposed to mean?" Bucky demanded.

Becky smirked. "You went out with Louise McNeil last night, didn't you?"

Steve felt the knot in his chest loosen but Bucky snarled. "Well, I don't see your boyfriend here. Remind me what church he goes to?"

Becky fell silent.

"That's what I thought," Bucky warned her quietly. "So unless you want Mom to find out you're sneaking out to date a Presbyterian, keep your mouth shut."

They hurried to catch up the the rest of the family.

"Well that was a little risqué for my taste," Mrs. Barnes said as they left the church.

Grace tugged at Bucky's sleeve. "Bucky, what's a sodomite?"

"Why are you asking me?" Bucky stammered, taken aback by the question.

Grace frowned. "Steve, what's a Sodomite?"

"Nothing to worry about!" Mrs. Barnes said quickly before Steve had to answer.

"What's a fornicator?" she asked Becky.

"That's enough questions!" Mrs Barnes said quickly.

"You might as well tell her now," Becky said. "She's just going to look it up later."

"I hope you three were paying attention," she said looking pointedly at Becky, Bucky, and Steve. She leaned over to Mr. Barnes to whisper. "It wouldn't hurt for you to have a talk with them later."

Mr. Barnes looked at them and shook his head to say that they would not be having that discussion.

"Ok, let's go home," Mrs. Barnes said, herding Robert and Grace toward the door. "Are you boys coming over for dinner tonight?"

Bucky looked at Steve, pleading with him to come up with an excuse.

"I'm feeling a bit ill," Steve said. It wasn't a complete lie. "I think it would be best if I just went home."

Mrs. Barnes put a hand on Steve's forehead. "You don't feel warm."

Steve put a hand to his stomach. "I think it's something I ate."

"Alright," she said. "We'll see you later. Let me know if you need anything."

"I'm going to go with him and make sure he's ok," Bucky said in a hurry. They ran off quickly before Mrs. Barnes could say another word.

* * *

Bucky slammed the door closed and went to get the whiskey out of the cabinet. "That was excruciating."

"I almost wanted to tell your sister what a sodomite was so she'd stop asking!" Steve said, exasperated.

"You realize that's us, right?" Bucky said, pouring a small glass.

"I don't remember the last priest talking about all that stuff. Do you?"

Bucky took a swig from his glass. "I don't think I was paying attention. I was just trying not to fall asleep."

"I think he was too. Didn't he fall asleep during communion once?"

"No, it was the confessional booth."

Steve sighed. "Maybe next week won't be so bad."

Bucky gaped at him. "You want to go back?"

"Yeah, there's this funny custom where some people go every week," Steve said, taking a sip of the whiskey.

"Fine." Bucky took the glass back and finished it. If he didn't press it, maybe Steve would forget. "Come on, let's eat and get to the park."

"Or we could just stay in," Steve said, stroking Bucky's side. Bucky flinched. "What?"

"It's just, after all that I'm not really in the mood."

"Ok, fine. Well go to the park," Steve said, kissing him on the cheek. "I have an art project I need to work in anyway."

Steve went to get his sketch pad. A day outside would do them both some good.

* * *

Bucky stretched as the radio broadcast finished. "I'm going to bed."

"I'll be there in a minute," Steve said, filling in some shading on his sketch.

Bucky brushed his teeth and went to change. As much as he had tried he couldn't get Father Carlisle's sermon out of his head. The timing of it was almost eerie. He could have sworn Father Carlisle was staring at him the whole time as though he knew what Bucky had been up to the night before.

He rubbed his face. Maybe a good night's rest would help clear his head. He started to climb into bed as Steve came in. He looked at Bucky, puzzled.

"Are we not pushing the beds together tonight?"

Bucky hesitated for a moment, but he realized he was being ridiculous. "Yeah, sorry. Forgot."

He got up and dragged his bed over to Steve's. Steve put a hand on his arm.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm just tired," Bucky said.

Steve kissed him and climbed in to bed. Bucky turned out the light and lay down beside him. Surely things would seem clearer in the morning. He closed his eyes and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

* * *

Bucky spun the pretty blond as the music swirled around them. The dance hall had been Steve's idea. He had tried not to let what happened at church last week bother him, but he couldn't shake it. Steve still wanted to go back tomorrow and Bucky was dreading it. The music had taken his mind off things for a while but all the girls in Brooklyn couldn't solve his troubles. In fact, the girls were part of the problem.

He loved Steve but there was a reason he hadn't been able to commit himself fully. He was still confused about the nature of his feelings. For a while it seemed like things had settled, but he realized he had just been ignoring the issue. Steve had given him space to work things out, but he was still lost. It was no longer a question of what he wanted, but rather how badly he wanted it. He loved Steve, but he wasn't sure he could handle what it would take for them to stay together. The sermon last week had shattered the blissful illusion they had been living in. Hell didn't really frighten him, but the idea of having to endure people that for the rest of his life did.

The dance ended and their song started to play. Bucky excused himself and went to stand against the wall with Steve. He looked out at the other couples on the floor. He envied the carefree smile of every other man there who was able to hold his sweetheart right now. The love of his life was standing beside him, but he might as well have been across the room.

"You wanna get out of here?" he asked Steve.

"Sure," Steve said. "It's still early, we could get a soda."

Bucky shook his head. "I need a drink."

They walked to the bar in silence. Bucky ordered a whiskey for each of them and took it over to a quiet table in the corner. He sipped his whiskey, staring out at the bar.

"Are you ok?" Steve asked. "You've been acting weird lately."

Bucky looked at his glass. He knew Steve was right, but he didn't want to talk about it right now. They'd had this argument before and it always ended the same way. These doubts had plagued him since that first stolen kiss and nothing had changed. The only difference was that he was starting to see the cracks in the facade. He finished his drink in one swallow.

"It's nothing. Let's just go home."

"We just got here!" Steve protested. "I haven't even finished my drink."

Bucky picked up the glass and took a large swallow. Steve glared at him.

"What? You weren't going to drink half of it anyway."

Steve scowled at him and finished it, coughing a bit as they left the bar. They walked home in stiff silence.

Bucky closed the door and went to the kitchen for a piece of cake. He felt Steve's hands slid around his waist. Steve leaned his cheek against Bucky's shoulder.

"I don't know what's bothering you but I'm here."

Bucky cut another piece of cake for Steve and took them to the table. He pulled out the chair to sit down but Steve stopped him. Pushing him back against the counter, he sank to his knees. He undid Buckys pants and boxers and took the head of Bucky's cock in his mouth, teasing and licking at the tip until it started to stiffen. Bucky leaned back, grabbing the counter for support.

His mind raced as Steve slid down, taking him in so far that his lips circled the base. He had had girls do this too him as well, just as good, but there was something about the way Steve's mouth enveloped him, swallowing him possessively. All the girls just seemed to be trying to rush through, get him off and get back to the dance floor. Steve took his time, lavishing attention on him, worshiping him. There was so much passion and affection in the way his tongue lapped at the tip, hungrily licking up every drop of him. How could something that intimate and caring be a sin?

Bucky cried out, gripping the counter as he exploded into Steve's mouth. Steve sucked him clean and sat back on his heels with a satisfied grin. Bucky looked at him for a moment as he caught his breath.

"Alright let's have cake," Steve said.

Bucky reached down to help Steve to his feet and led him back to the bedroom. "Forget the cake."

* * *

Bucky awoke with Steve in his arms. The morning sun gleaming through the window gave him a sense of peace that he hadn't felt in days. He kissed Steve's neck. Holding Steve in his arms just seemed right.

"What time is it?" Steve asked groggily.

"What does it matter?," Bucky muttered, kissing his neck. "It's Sunday?"

"We told your mom we'd go to Mass. We should probably get up."

"You really want to go again?"

"Maybe it won't be so bad this week."

"What's with the sudden interest in church?" Bucky asked.

Steve grew quiet for a moment. "I haven't been since Mom died."

Bucky reached up to stroke his arm. "That's right, it'll be a year soon."

Steve nodded. "Sometimes I just feel like I'm starting to forget her. The apartment is gone, I got rid of most of her stuff. Everything has just changed so much since last year. I just wanted it to slow down for a minute."

Bucky kissed him softly. "Ok, we'll go." Bucky trailed a hand down Steve's bare arm. "But you owe me."

"I'll make pancakes," Steve said, shoving his hand away. "I don't think I'll be able to walk straight for a couple of days as it is."

* * *

Bucky took a deep breath to settle his stomach as the service drew to a close. It had been just as bad this week if not worse. His mother looked a bit perturbed.

"You'd think he might have a little more variety," she said shortly.

"Well we're done," his dad said. "Let's go eat."

"I have to stay. The knitting circle is having a meeting about the charity bazaar. There's leftover chicken in the icebox. Becky can you start dinner?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"Steve, Bucky before you go home it might be good for you to go to confession," she said sharply.

"What!" Bucky asked.

"Well you've barely been to mass since Christmas I can only imagine the last time you went to confession."

Bucky looked to his father for help.

"Listen to your mother," he said as he herded the rest of the family out.

"Are you going to go?" Steve asked when they were out of earshot.

Bucky shook his head. "What's the point of confessing your sins if you don't plan to stop."

Steve chuckled, blushing slightly. "Just go! It's not like you'll catch fire."

"Fine." Bucky sighed. "Let's get this over with."

Bucky went in the confessional booth.

"Bless me father for I have sinned and it's been," he paused to think. "Awhile since my last confession."

"And what do you have to confess?"

Bucky rubbed his neck. "Well you know the usual." He didn't want to tell this man about Steve but it was weighing on his mind. Maybe talking about it would at least help him sort through it. "Thing is, I'm in love with someone I shouldn't be in love with. I've tried to stop but I can't ignore the way I feel."

"Are you talking about love or lust, my son," Father Carlisle asked gravely.

"Both I guess," Bucky replied.

"Human nature needs to be overcome," Father Carlisle insisted. "That's what separates us from the beasts."

"But it's not like we're hurting anyone," Bucky argued. "I don't understand how loving someone can be so terrible."

"Thou shalt not commit adultery nor covet thy neighbor's wife," the priest quoted.

"No, it's not like that!" Bucky said quickly.

"Then what is so bad about her that you feel the need to confess?" Father Carlisle demanded. "Is she a protestant? Jewish?"

Bucky cringed. He had gotten away so far without lying outright but now he was stuck. "It's not a dame," he muttered.

"I see," the priest said in a grave tone. "That is a very serious transgression."

Bucky glared at the screen, clenching his fist. "I can't help it," he insisted. "I've tried, I really have, but I love him."

"It's an abomination," Father Carlisle replied harshly. "If you persist both of you are doomed to eternal torment."

"I think I made a mistake coming here." Bucky stood up and ran out of the confessional booth without another word. He couldn't stand to hear anymore of this. Steve fell in behind him as he headed for the door.

"Didn't go well?"

"Let's just go home." Bucky muttered darkly.

* * *

Back at home, Steve fixed lunch while Bucky sat at the table with a far off look in his eyes. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Bucky hesitated for a moment. "I told him I was in love with a man," he said finally. "I don't even want to tell you the things he said."

"Can't be much worse than what he said in his sermon," Steve grumbled.

He handed Bucky a plate and sat down at the table. Bucky ate slowly, barely seeming to notice what he was eating. He finished and took his plate to the sink.

"I need to clear my head, I'm going for a walk."

He grabbed his coat and headed out the door. Steve finished his lunch and got up to start prepping dinner. He drained the beans that had been soaking and refilled the pot with water. He turned the stove on and started prepping the vegetables, angrily chopping the carrots as he thought about the service.

He felt like an idiot for making Bucky go. Things like this were exactly why Bucky was still holding back. He didn't bring it up often, but Bucky's reluctance to commit still irked him. While he didn't like the constant parade of woman, he had learned to be patient. Bucky needed time to come around, but until the last week Steve had thought he was winning. Now he saw how easily that could be upset.

Steve dropped the carrots into the pot and started chopping the onion. It wasn't just Bucky that was bothering him, he realized. The whole thing had left a bad taste in his mouth too. He had insisted they start going to church again to try to recapture some of what his life had been when his mother was alive. He remembered sitting beside her and hearing stories about charity and integrity and compassion. It had always seemed like a safe and welcoming place in a harsh unfair world. Church had always inspired hope in him, but hearing the priest say such horrible things made him question if he had just been blind. He believed in God, but he was starting to think his idea of God might not be the same one he was raised with. He couldn't reconcile the idea that loving Bucky made him a wicked person. With so much injustice and hatred in the world, what sort of God would condemn him for loving someone.

He dumped the onions in the pot and started peeling potatoes. Maybe while the soup was cooking he would draw a little. If he couldn't find God in church, he'd look in his art.

* * *

The leaves swirled through the air as Bucky walked through the streets. He thought back to that first kiss two years ago. It had been an impulse, a split second of boldness that had changed his life. He didn't regret it, but at the time he hadn't understood what he was pulling them into. He had never set out to hurt Steve, but he had. Everything had seemed so clear in that moment, but nothing afterwards had been easy. Steve had been patient, but Bucky still couldn't help feeling that it would have been better if he had never said anything.

Living with Steve he forgot sometimes what the rest of the world was like, but the past week had been a harsh reminder of why he hadn't been able to commit to Steve. Everywhere he went he felt like an imposter, at work, in the gym, at his parents. He felt like half of what he said anymore was a lie. He was always making excuses for why he didn't have a girlfriend or where he was on Friday night. He hated lying to his family, but the thought of how they might react terrified him. The only person he could be honest with was Steve, but some of the things he needed to say would just start an argument. Sometimes he felt so trapped. He didn't know if the priest was right about him going to Hell for loving Steve but sometimes he felt as though he were already there.

In his darkest thoughts he envied Steve. He had nothing to lose if the truth came out. His parents were gone and he could always just pick up and start over somewhere new if he wanted. Bucky still had a family and he wasn't prepared to abandon that. He knew that one day he might have to make a choice but he wasn't ready for it. Even though he was a man now, he still cherished those moments with his mother in the kitchen when the world made sense and those quiet afternoons doing home repairs with his father. He wanted to see Robert and Grace grow up and be there to help them through all the years ahead. He couldn't even stand the thought of losing Becky, no matter how irritating she was. He wanted to see her get married and meet her children. He didn't know if he could sacrifice that for Steve, but he wasn't sure he could keep living a lie to hang on to it either. There was a part of him that kept hoping some girl might come along and change his mind. He loved Steve but he would give it up in a second to be normal again.

Bucky sat down on a bench and stared at the sky. He wondered how long this could last. Something had to give eventually, he just hoped that whatever happened, he wouldn't lose Steve completely.

* * *

A few days later, Steve was at work reshelving books. Mr. Zimmerman was at the counter straightening up. The last few days at home had been odd. Bucky had been withdrawn and distant. Steve had tried to talk to him about it, but he would just change the subject. He wondered what Bucky was thinking, but he was still grappling with his own thoughts. No matter what the priest said, his feelings for Bucky seemed like the most natural thing in the world. But if that was true, what did that mean about his faith?

He reshelved the last of the books and went to get the broom. Steve paused and turned to Mr. Zimmerman. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Certainly." Mr. Zimmerman replied, not looking up from his work.

"Do you believe in God?"

Mr. Zimmerman laughed, setting the papers aside. "The deep questions always come after the long silence."

"I guess that means you don't have a simple answer," Steve replied, taking the broom over to the corner to start sweeping.

Mr. Zimmerman smiled patiently. "Hard questions should never have an easy answer."

"I was at church this week and the something of the things the priest was saying just didn't seem right to me," Steve explained.

Mr. Zimmerman nodded. "I see. So we are talking about Religion, not God."

Steve stopped sweeping and looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Faith and Religion are not the same," Mr. Zimmerman told him. "Religion can be a guide, but faith is a personal thing for each man to discover on his own. Too often I have seen men close their eyes to reason in the name of Religion. Religion is easy and easily misused. Faith is difficult but it is the truer path."

"I just want to do the right thing."

"You don't need anyone to tell you what that is." Mr. Zimmerman put his hand on Steve's shoulder. "You have a good heart, just listen to it."

"I wonder if that's enough," Steve mused.

"It's more than many people have," Mr. Zimmerman assured him, returning to his work.

Steve tapped his fingers on the broom handle. "And what if your conscience tells you something is right when everyone else says it's wrong?"

"It is never bad to question what you believe, but don't let your doubts override your conscience. Perhaps they are they ones who must change." Mr. Zimmerman smiled warmly. "Enough philosophy now! Get back to work or we'll be here all night."

Steve nodded and set to work, pondering Mr. Zimmerman's advice as he swept.

* * *

Steve lifted the lid off the pot to stir the beef stew. It was one of Bucky's favorites and he was hoping it might lift his spirits a bit. He was at the gym, but he should be home soon. He heard the door opened. Bucky sat down in the chair to take off his shoes.

"Hi Steve. What's for dinner? Smells good."

"Beef stew," Steve told him. He looked at Bucky carefully. His face was swollen and starting to bruise. "What happened to you?"

"Got a bit distracted," Bucky called as he went to the bedroom to change. He came back and took a wash rag from the drawer and ran some cold water over it.

"Are you ok?" Steve asked.

Bucky winced as he pressed the rag to his cheek. "My face hurts."

"That's not what I meant," Steve said. Bucky had been dodging the subject all week. If he was distracted enough to get sucker punched like this, they needed to clear the air. "You didn't kiss me when you got home."

Bucky shifted the rag. "Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind."

"I noticed." Steve reached out to lay a hand on his arm. "You've barely touched me all week."

Bucky sighed. "I know, I'm sorry."

"If there's something bothering you, you can talk to me," Steve pleaded.

Bucky was quiet for a moment. He turned around and ran fresh water over the rag. "Do you think what we're doing is wrong?" he asked quietly.

"Are you still on about what Father Carlisle said?" Steve asked softly.

"It's hard sometimes when everyone around you says that the way you're living your life is a sin," he admitted. "Just think about what would happen if we were found out. Do you ever wonder if we're wrong?"

"Just because everyone's against us doesn't mean we're wrong," Steve said, pouring Bucky a glass of whiskey. "Everyone used to think Prohibition was a good idea too."

"Thank God we missed that," Bucky muttered, taking the glass.

"And not that long ago women couldn't vote," Steve continued. "Just because everyone thinks one way doesn't mean it's right. Maybe one day people will change their minds on this too."

Bucky took a sip of his drink.

"I love you, Sweetheart." Steve brushed his cheek. "And I'm with you, no matter what happens."

"I love you too." Bucky squeezed Steve's hand. "So you said beef stew?"

Steve smiled. "It's almost ready. Set the table while I slice the bread."

Bucky had just finished setting the table when there was a knock on the door. Before they could answer it, Becky entered grinning ear to ear.

"Becky! I've told you before you can't just barge in here!" Bucky cried.

"You'll never guess what happened at the knitting group this afternoon," she said excitedly.

"You made an ugly scarf that I'm going to get for Christmas?" Bucky guessed.

"You're getting a sweater," Becky said flatly. "Mom and I were knitting and Grace was reading a book like she always does. Father Carlisle came in and took the book away from her and told her to pick up a ball of yarn because young women should be knitting more than they read, and if she must read, she should be reading the Bible."

"Yeah that sounds like him," Steve muttered, setting the bread on the table.

"Well here's the funny part," Becky continued. "Mom started yelling at him to give it back and said Grace can read anything she wants. Then she started lecturing him about his sermons and how they're not appropriate for young children. She was so mad she accidentally stabbed him in the arm with a knitting needle!"

"Really?" Bucky asked, astounded. "What did he say?"

"Well we're banned from church for the time being, but a lot of the other women in the knitting group agree with her so they're going to write to the Bishop and tell him that they don't approve of the new priest. He might not be here much longer."

Steve failed to hide a grin. "So I guess we don't have to wake up early Sunday."

"No, but Mom wanted you to come over for dinner."

"We'll be there," Bucky said. "You want to stay? We're having beef stew?"

Becky shook her head. "I need to get going. I have a date. I'll see you Sunday."

"Have fun with your Methodist!" Bucky called.

"He's Presbyterian!" Becky yelled back, slamming the door behind her.

"Well that was a nice surprise," Steve said, serving the stew.

"You know that doesn't really change anything," Bucky pointed out, taking a seat at the table. "Who's to say the next priest will be any better."

"Then I'm done with church," Steve said, sitting down at the table. "I'm not going to sit there and let someone tell me I should feel bad about this."

"And what if you're wrong?" Bucky asked.

"What if they're wrong?" Steve countered. "I still believe in God, I just can't believe in their version of God. I believe in us, and no one can convince me that God hates us for being in love."

"I wish I had your faith." Bucky picked up his spoon and stirred his stew. "I do love you Steve or I wouldn't have made it this long."

Steve took a piece of bread and dipped it in his stew. Bucky was right. Getting rid of Father Carlisle wouldn't change anything, but that didn't mean they were wrong.

"After dinner let's go see movie and get our minds off of all this," Steve suggested.

Bucky grinned. "Sounds good. I still need to see that Cary Grant movie."

* * *

Bucky lay awake watching Steve as he slept peacefully beside him. His mind was racing. He trailed his fingers idly up and down Steve's back. Even if this was wrong, he couldn't give it up. Steve was the love of his life. He knew he would never find anyone else as devoted and caring. He held Steve closer, breathing in the scent of his hair.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you, Sweetheart, but I'm glad I did it."

He kissed Steve on the forehead and closed his eyes, listening to Steve's slow steady breathing

 **-End-**

* * *

 **A/N:** Gah! It's been forever since I updated! Thank you guys for your patience. This chapter was kind of tricky. I wanted to touch Steve and Bucky's religious beliefs, but I also didn't want to get too bogged down in it, so it took more time than usual to figure out how to balance that. I just want to assure you that I am not going to abandon this story. Life has been a little hectic lately and I've been a bit distracted by cosplay projects. Also we're in kind of a tricky place where chapters might take a little time but I promise I'll see it through to the end. I have way too many ideas.

Thanks for reading! Please review and let me know what you think!


	13. Hiatus Announcement

THIS STORY IS ON HIATUS UNTIL MID AUGUST! DETAILS BELOW.

I'm sorry for the lack of updates recently. I know some of you are probably worried this will die but I promise you I will finish.

That said, I am placing this fic on an official hiatus until August. I've been having some personal issues recently and while I love this story, it takes a lot of energy and focus. I need a break so that I can give you the best possible story. The next few chapters are very involved and I want to give them the care and attention they deserve and I'm just not capable of doing so at this time. I need a creative break to recharge so I don't get burned out.

I also have a couple of very elaborate Cosplay projects that need my attention right now so I just won't have the time to devote to this during the months of June and early July. I might be writing something that is sort of a backstory to one of my cosplays, so look for that if you need a Bucky fix. After the big con push I'll be back at my writing and hopefully have something for you by mid august.

Thank you all for following this story so far!


	14. Becky

**Becky**

 _-Winter 1937-_

Friday night, Bucky and Steve sat on the couch listening to the radio. An advertisement came on and Bucky got up to get a drink.

"So I was thinking we could go to the movies tomorrow night."

Steve shook his head. "I have to work. It's the last week before Christmas and the bookstore is really busy."

"What if I make a cake and we can just have a late dessert," Bucky suggested.

He heard Steve stifle a laugh. "Ok, sure."

"What, I've made cakes before."

"Aww come on, Buck. Sugar's expensive," Steve groaned.

Bucky sat back down on the couch. "Punk."

He leaned in to kiss Steve. Steve reached up and held tight, pulling him in closer. He heard the door swing open.

"BUCKY!" A female voice shrieked.

Bucky tore himself away from Steve, but too late to matter. Becky stood in the doorway, aghast. Bucky jumped up and hurried to the door. She turned and ran down the hall, but in heels, she couldn't outrun him. He caught up to her at the top of the stairs.

"Let go of me you pervert!" she seethed, punching him in the chest. It dazed him but he held firm.

"Just let me explain!" he pleaded. He wasn't sure what he could say, but he couldn't let her leave. If he let her walk out right now, it was all over for them.

She slapped him hard in the face. "Let go of me!"

Bucky looked around desperately. If they stayed out here someone was bound to notice. He clamped a hand over her mouth and dragged her back to the apartment. Steve was still sitting on the couch. His eyes went wide. Bucky kicked the door closed and wrestled Becky into a chair.

"Find something to tie her up with!"

Steve gaped at him. "You can't be serious."

"If I let her go she'll scream and someone'll call the police. So unless you want to be evicted-"

"You can't tie your sister to a chair!" Steve cried.

Bucky winced as Becky bit his hand, but held tight. "I used to do it all the time."

"You're not twelve anymore!" Steve chastised him. "Let her go and let's discuss this like adults!"

Bucky hesitated for a moment before releasing Becky. She ran over to the kitchen and grabbed a knife from the drawer.

"Becky, just calm down for a minute and let us explain," Steve said patiently. She held the knife out.

"I know what I saw! You were kissing!" she squealed.

Bucky tried to think of an excuse, but Steve stepped forward.

"Yes, we were." Steve said firmly.

Becky looked sadly at Bucky, shaking her head in disbelief. "I set you up with my friend Cindy last week!"

Bucky was trembling. Steve reached down to take his hand, but he snatched it away. Becky sank into the chair still holding the knife.

"Becky, you can't tell Mom or Dad!" he pleaded.

"Why should I cover for you?" she demanded.

"Because I'm your brother and I don't think you want to see me disowned right before Christmas."

Becky looked at him and reluctantly set the knife on the table. "Mom sent me to invite you to dinner Wednesday, but I'm just going to tell her you weren't home."

"Are you going to tell her?" Bucky asked, his voice shaking.

Becky wrung her hands. "I don't know. Not today. I need some time to think."

She stood up and ran out of the apartment. Bucky sank down into the chair, trembling.

"That's it. We're done for."

Steve said nothing. He poured Bucky a glass of whiskey and set it on the table in front of him. Bucky looked at the glass but he felt like he was going to vomit if he drank it. They sat quietly, only the radio breaking the silence. A familiar song came on.

" _Let me call you Sweethe-"_

Bucky turned off the radio. He couldn't bear to listen to that right now. That song had played during some of the happiest times of his life, but hearing it now only made him feel ill. He looked over at Steve who had a worried look on his face. He wanted to hold him and tell him that everything would work out, but this time he wasn't certain it would. He threw back the whiskey and stood up.

"You know, I think I just want to go to bed."

Steve nodded. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

They brushed their teeth and changed for bed. Bucky started to climb under the covers but Steve took his hand.

"I don't want to sleep alone tonight."

Bucky put his arms around Steve. He had held it together earlier, but he was trembling, just as shaken as Bucky was. They had to stick together. If Becky busted them, Steve was the only person he'd be able to turn to.

"I love you," Bucky said quietly. "Remember that."

Steve looked at him uncertainly but turned to pull his bed over to the middle of the room. Bucky moved his, arranging the covers. They climbed in and settled in. Steve nodded off quickly, but Bucky lay awake staring at the ceiling for awhile before drifting into a restless sleep.

* * *

It was a quiet afternoon at the bookstore. Mr. Zimmerman had left Steve to restock the books while he ran a few errands. The last few days had been difficult. With no word from Becky or his parents, Bucky had been withdrawn and moody. Steve knew he was afraid of losing his family, and there was a very real chance of that if his parents found out. Steve had no idea what to say. Short of silencing Becky, there was no way to put Bucky's mind at ease.

While Bucky was afraid that his parents would cut ties with him, Steve worried that he would be the one left out in the cold. Bucky's parents weren't so heartless as to cut him off without a word, but they would almost certainly force him to end the relationship. He worried that if faced with a choice between Steve and his family, Bucky might choose them. Steve knew that Bucky loved him, but he didn't know if that was enough. He was still uncertain what he wanted and this might be enough to drive them apart.

Bucky came in. "Hey, what time do you get off? My mom wants us over for dinner."

Steve looked at him carefully. He hadn't been sleeping well and he had barely eaten. "Six."

"Ok just head on over when you're done."

Steve looked around and stepped in. "I'm not going to let her tell them."

Bucky looked at him helplessly. "What can you do Steve?"

"I don't know, but I'll think if something. If she hasn't told them yet we still have a chance." Steve looked around and risked a quick squeeze of Bucky's hand. "I'll be over as soon as I can."

Bucky smiled at him. "I'll see you soon."

He left and Steve returned to his work. If he didn't get the books restocked, he would never get out of here on time. Bucky was going to need all the help he could get.

* * *

Bucky sat in the living room trying to read the newspaper, but he couldn't focus on the page. His attention was on Grace reading her book by the window and Robert playing with his tinker toys. This might be one of the last evenings he had to spend with them. He and Grace had always shared an interest in books, but he and Robert had never really had a chance to get to know one another. He was almost 10 years older than his brother and they had never had much in common. He liked to think they would have been closer once they were older, but he might not have a chance to find out. He set aside his paper and moved to the floor. If this was their last Christmas together, he at least wanted Robert to remember him well.

"What are you making?"

"A ferris wheel," Robert said.

Bucky lifted up a lopsided cluster of wooden rods and couplings. "Need help?"

Robert picked up a rod and looked at it carefully. "Sure."

Bucky took apart what Robert had done so they could start over. He talked Robert through a few principles of geometry, explaining that all of his rods needed to be the same if he wanted it to be even. The ferris wheel started to come together piece by piece and by the time Steve arrived, they were ready to attach the last piece. Bucky let Robert do the honors and gave it a spin. He patted him on the shoulder and went over to greet Steve. His mother came out of the kitchen and kissed Steve on the cheek.

"Make yourself comfortable. Dinner's almost ready. Bucky why don't you help your sister set the table."

Bucky went to the table where Becky was laying out the plates. She watched him suspiciously while they laid out the silverware. She hadn't told them yet, but had she just been waiting for the entire family to be together? Becky was the closest to him in age and they had never gotten along well. She had a habit of ruining dinner to tattle on him, but they were older now and this was far more serious than playing hooky or breaking a cup. They weren't going to get whipped and sent to bed without dessert. This could tear their family apart. He had to hope that she had at least stop to consider what she was doing.

"What is with you two?" his mother asked, setting the butter on the table.

"Nothing." Bucky said before Becky could say anything. " I just had a long day at work."

His mother looked unconvinced. "You know what I would like for Christmas?" she asked, pinching Bucky's arm gently. "Everyone to pretend they like each other for a day."

She turned to go back to the kitchen. Becky glared at him, angrily slamming the glasses in place.

"Careful, you'll break those," Bucky joked humorlessly.

"So you're just going to pretend everything's normal?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"Worked for me so far," Bucky muttered.

Becky finished her part and stormed off to help in the kitchen. Steve came in with a worried look on his face.

"How's it going?" he whispered, careful to keep his voice low.

"She hasn't said anything, but I'm not sure how long that'll last." Bucky set a fork on the table, running a finger over the engraved B in the handle. "This might be the last time we sit at this table."

Steve patted him reassuringly on the shoulder and picked up the spoons. "Let's finish this up."

By the time they finished laying the table, Bucky's mother and Becky were bringing in the food. Bucky took a seat as far away from Becky as he could. When everyone was seated, his father said grace to begin the meal.

Bucky reached for a roll as they passed around the food. He took a slice of ham and spooned creamed peas onto his plate. He handed them to Steve and reached for the butter. He took a bite, letting each bite sit on his tongue. One word from Becky and he would never taste this again. He looked around the table. He had always felt guilty hiding his relationship from his parents but he knew they'd never approve. He had accepted long ago that he might have to choose between them and Steve, but either way he would lose. He wasn't ready to make that decision. If he even got the chance, that was. If Becky brought it up in the middle of dinner the choice might be made for him.

"So Bucky are you seeing anyone?" His mother asked.

Bucky looked at Becky. Their eyes locked for a moment but before either of them could speak, Buckys father cut in.

"Don't pester him Winifred," he grumbled. "He's 20. Just let him have some fun."

"Well I was just asking," his mother replied shortly.

"He'll tell you when there's something to tell," he said firmly.

She shot him a dark look and turned to Steve. "How is school going?"

"It's just fine," Steve said. "I'm taking a watercolor class next semester."

She smiled. "Oh that'll be lovely. I always liked watercolor. How is the bookstore?"

"It's been busy with the Christmas season, but things will slow down after the New Year."

"You're coming over for Christmas aren't you?" she asked, spooning more peas onto his plate.

"Yes ma'am."

"Make sure you get Bucky out of bed on time."

Bucky almost choked on a bite of roll. He looked at Becky, but she was watching Steve.

"I'll be sure to set the alarm," Steve promised.

His mother smiled and turned her attention to Grace. Bucky watched Becky carefully through the rest of dinner, but she seemed to have given up for now. After dessert, he and Steve left. They headed down the street, Steve barely keeping pace with him. As they neared their apartment, he slowed to a halt and leaned against a wall.

"I think that went ok," Steve said feebly.

Bucky shook his head. "She was just looking for an opening. I could practically see her picturing every dirty thing we've ever done."

"I don't think she's that imaginative," Steve muttered.

"Steve, we have to stop her before she tells them. I can't keep this up."

Steve looked around and leaned into kiss Bucky on the cheek. "Sweetheart, I promise we'll figure this out. I know you're worried, but you're going to drive yourself crazy."

Bucky put an arm around Steve's thin shoulders as they continued on.

"Bucky, can we fool around tonight?" Steve asked quietly.

"Huh?"

"I know this whole thing has you upset, but it's been a few days since we did anything and I miss you."

Bucky looked at Steve as they approached the door. A year ago he would have done anything to hear those words. It was strange how things had changed. He smiled and brushed Steve's cheek lightly.

"I'm sorry if I've been neglecting you. Why don't I make us some cocoa to relax and we'll see where the evening goes."

"Cocoa sounds great," Steve agreed.

* * *

Steve finished his cocoa and stood to take the mugs to the sink. He turned on the water to wash them, but he felt Bucky's arms slip around him from behind. He shut it off and turned to face Bucky. Bucky leaned into kiss him, gently at first, but as the kiss drew on, he pulled Steve closer. Throwing his arms around Bucky's neck, Steve lifted himself up to wrap his legs around Bucky's hips. Bucky moaned softly, shuddering as Steve arched into him. He carried Steve to the bedroom and lay him on the bed. Steve lay there, eager to see what Bucky had planned.

He stripped off his clothes and knelt on the bed to undo Steve's pants. He tugged them off and bent over to kiss Steve, carefully unbuttoning his shirt. He moved down to kiss Steve's neck, working his way along until the shirt fell open. He stripped it off along with Steve's undershirt but reached under the pillow to hand him a flannel night shirt.

"I don't want you catching cold."

Steve slipped it on and lay back as Bucky bent over and sucked gently at a nipple, kissing a trail down to Steve's waistband. Closing his eyes, he lay back as Bucky slid off his boxers and ran a hand up the inside of his thigh. He could feel himself harden as Bucky's lips closed around him. He let himself relax as Bucky sucked him with a slow, lazy rhythm. He was trying to draw things out and Steve was eager to let him. It had only been three days, but the stress of this had made it worse. He needed Bucky right now. He needed some faint hope that he might be Bucky's choice.

Steve felt his groin tighten and he shot off into Bucky's mouth. Bucky gagged but swallowed it. Steve took a moment to catch his breath before reaching up to grasp Bucky's cock, stroking it slowly as Bucky leaned back to grab the foot of the bed. He reached down to caress Bucky's balls, drinking in the sight of him, naked and in his hands. He hated to see Bucky lose his family for this, but Bucky was all he had.

He bent down to kiss the tip of Bucky's cock, licking off a bead of goo. He let it rest on his tongue, savoring the taste. If his days with Bucky were numbered, he wanted to remember every small detail. As he slid his lips down Bucky's cock, he felt Bucky's fingers curl in his hair. He pulled slightly, sending shivers down to Steve's groin. He felt himself harden again and moved up to kiss Bucky's neck. Straddling his hips, he rubbed his erection against Bucky's. Bucky moaned and put a hand on the small of Steve's back, pulling him in closer. Steve put his arms around Bucky's neck and let him take over. Bucky had been pulling away from him and he needed to know that he was still wanted.

Bucky's fingers dug into Steve's back as he came, shooting off on Steve's stomach. With a few final thrusts, he was finished. Panting for breath, he reached down between them to finish Steve. He pumped him with firm, short strokes, pausing to rub his thumb over the slick tip. Trembling, Steve came. He leaned against Bucky to catch his breath.

"I do love you," Bucky said, trailing a finger up his back.

"I know," Steve assured him.

Bucky grabbed his undershirt off the floor to wipe up the mess and climbed under the covers. Steve curled up beside him and rested his head on Bucky's bare chest. Bucky drifted off to sleep quickly. He had barely slept in the last week worrying about Becky and Steve could tell he was exhausted. He curled his fingers in Bucky's chest hair and closed his eyes. There had to be a way around this. He wasn't going to let Bucky go without a fight.

* * *

Bucky loitered outside of the store waiting for Becky to come out. He had called the house but his mom had sent her out to get butter. If he could get her alone long enough to talk to her maybe he could fix this. With one day until Christmas, he had to try. She came out and almost dropped the bag when she saw him.

"You're really over reacting to this. I didn't grow an extra head." Bucky said, trying to feign casualness.

"What do you want?" she asked, continuing down the street.

Bucky fell into step beside her. "I wanted to talk to you. If I have to sit through another dinner like that I'm going to have a heart attack."

"Should have thought of that before you decided to play mattress polo with Steve." Becky said coldly.

Bucky pulled her into a secluded alley. "Becky, it's not what you think!"

"I caught you!" she squeaked. "I'm not an idiot, I can put two and two together."

"It's not just some fling!" Bucky told her. "I love him."

Becky glared at him. "You're going to break her heart."

"I know! I never wanted this to happen," Bucky moaned. He leaned back against the wall, a lump forming in his throat. "I've tried Becky, I really have, but I can't help how I feel."

"You've gone out with half the girls in the neighborhood!" Becky exclaimed. "How do you just turn queer all of a sudden?"

"Well it didn't happen over night!" Bucky growled. "We've been together for two and a half years."

"Then why did you let me set you up with Gertrude Mercer?"

"It's complicated," Bucky muttered. He took a deep breath and looked at her. "I'm begging you, don't tell them."

"I have to get home."

Becky clutched her bag tightly and pushed past him. She ran out of the alley, leaving him alone. Bucky slumped down against the wall with his head in his hands.

* * *

Bucky climbed the stairs to the apartment. After talking to Becky he had gone to a bar but Steve was probably waiting up for him. He opened the door to find Steve asleep at the table with his sketch pad in his hand. He carefully slid it out to look. It was a picture of Steve's mother. Steve stirred.

"What time is it?" he asked groggily

"Ten o'clock." Bucky said.

Steve stretched. "I guess I nodded off. There's ham in the refrigerator."

"Sorry I'm late," Bucky said, taking the bread out to make a sandwich.

"How did it go?"

"I don't know." He looked at the picture. "It looks just like her."

Steve closed the sketchbook. "I miss her, but I'm kind of glad I never had to go through this." He looked at Bucky. "Is that a terrible thing to think?"

"No," Bucky opened the refrigerator and took out the ham. He knew Steve would give anything to have his mother back, but he wouldn't wish this on anyone. "I don't know what I'm going to say to them."

"I don't either," Steve confessed. "I don't know what I can do to help."

Bucky leaned down and kissed him. "Just help me take my mind off things for a little while."

"I could give you your present early," Steve said with a suggestive leer.

Bucky sat down to eat his sandwich. "Why don't you go unwrap it and I'll be there in a minute."

* * *

Steve looked at the clock, though he had been awake for hours. Neither of them had slept. This might be their last Christmas together, or the first of many by themselves. He kissed Bucky and sat up.

"Come on, we have to go or we'll miss breakfast."

Bucky clutched the blanket tightly around his shoulders. "I can't do it Steve," he said in a small voice. "I don't want to see the look on their faces."

"Bucky, you don't know if she told them. They're going to get suspicious if we don't show up."

"This isn't fair," Bucky muttered. "They're my family, I'm supposed to be able to tell them stuff, but I'm just going to have to keep lying about you for the rest of my life, making up excuses about why I don't have a girl and I'm still bringing my roommate home for the holidays."

Steve lay down beside Bucky, putting his arms around him. "Whatever happens I'm here. And if things don't work out, we'll just run away to Boston."

"Boston?" Bucky scoffed. "I'm not pulling for the Red Sox!"

"Fine, we'll go to Chicago and route for the Cubs." He kissed Bucky's cheek. "I know you're scared Sweetheart, but you're not alone."

Bucky took Steve's hand and brought it up to his lips. "I guess we'd better get this over with."

They dressed and headed out into the cold. As they approached, they saw Becky standing at the corner.

"You took your time," she grumbled, rubbing her hands together.

"Are you here to tell me I've been disowned and not to bother coming up?" Bucky asked.

"Told mom I was taking a coffee cake to Mrs. Murphy. I wanted to talk to you first."

"And?" Bucky asked. Steve took his hand. His stomach was in knots.

"I'm not going to tell them," Becky said.

Steve felt a wave of relief as Bucky gaped at her. "What?"

"I don't like it, but if I tell them, there's no going back. Maybe if I let you work this out you'll come to your senses and we can forget the whole thing."

Bucky exhaled heavily. "Thank you Becky."

She sighed heavily. "Well I don't want to ruin Christmas. I'll see you upstairs, it's cold."

She headed up, leaving Bucky and Steve alone. Steve hugged Bucky excitedly. "I was actually scared for a moment!"

He stood back, but Bucky was staring up at the window. He looked at Steve and forced a smile.

"Let's go up. I'm starving."

Steve followed, trying to quell the feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was over for now, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this was just a momentary reprieve. He darted ahead of Bucky and stopped him halfway up the stairs, leaning in to kiss him.

"I love you," he said firmly. "Remember that."

Bucky brushed his cheek softly. "Merry Christmas, Sweetheart."

 **-End-**

* * *

Whoo! Back from hiatus! Sorry to return with a downer, but that's the direction things are heading for the moment. I am officially back and while I can't guarantee that this story will be updated frequently, rest assure that I am actively working on it. Thank you for sticking with me!

Before everyone jumps all over Becky, let me just say a few words in her defense. For the time period, I think she's pretty understanding. She really does love her brother and the story is far from over so give her a chance to come around before you condemn her.


	15. Wasting My Love On You

**Wasting my love on you**

* * *

 **-Spring 1938-**

Steve and Bucky sat around the dinner table with Bucky's family. Bucky's mother had made chicken and potatoes but Steve barely tasted his meal. He kept his eyes on Becky as he ate. So far, she had kept her word not to tell anyone about them, but coming over always made Steve nervous. Mrs. Barnes spooned another helping of potatoes onto his plate. He thanked her and stabbed one with his fork while she turned her attention to Bucky.

"So, Bucky are you seeing anyone?"

Becky glanced quickly at Steve and then back down at her plate.

"No one special," Bucky replied lightly.

"Well, there's a dance at the Parish Hall Saturday night," she said. "No one has asked Ethel MacKenzie's daughter yet."

Bucky took a sip of his milk. "I thought we got banned from church after you stabbed Father what's his name with a knitting needle."

Mrs. Barnes sat up a bit straighter. "The Bishop agreed that Father Carlisle wasn't the right fit and we got a new priest last month."

Mr. Barnes frowned. "I thought he went on sabbatical."

"Oh hush and eat your potatoes," she chided. She turned back to Bucky. "But she's a very sweet girl, I think you'd like her."

Steve risked a quick glance at Bucky.

"I have plans that night," Bucky said.

"Oh, well then-

"You're just going to the movies with Steve," Becky cut in sharply. "Don't you two see enough of each other?

Steve bristled, shoving a large bite of chicken in his mouth.

"You need to get out and be social," Mrs. Barnes chastised. "You'll never find a girl sitting around the house. Rose is a very pretty girl and you love to dance."

"I don't want to leave Steve behind," Bucky said lamely.

"Well no one's asked Becky yet," Mrs. Barnes suggested. "I'm sure she'd be glad to go with you."

Bucky smirked. "What do you say Becky?"

She glared at Steve, viciously tearing a roll in half. Steve glared back but Bucky looked at him with pleading eyes. Steve sighed. "Becky, would you like to go to the dance with me?"

"I'd be delighted," she grumbled.

"Well then, that's settled," Mrs. Barnes said. "I'll call Ethel and let her know you're taking Rose.

"Yes ma'am," Bucky muttered. He mouthed an apology to Steve as Mrs. Barnes turned to ask Robert about school.

Steve scowled and cut a piece of chicken. At least he was going to ruin Becky's Saturday night too.

* * *

Steve stomped up the stairs and threw open the door. Bucky followed, closing it softly to avoid disturbing the neighbors.

"Well what did you want me to say?" he demanded.

"Anything!" Steve snapped.

Bucky scowled. "I tried! I can't exactly say, 'Sorry mom, it's the third anniversary of my secret relationship with Steve that I've been hiding from you'. It's not until Tuesday anyway."

"Well I have class. That's why we agreed on Saturday. I asked off weeks ago. You promised me it was just going to be us."

"There was nothing I could do, Steve," Bucky grated. "She had me over a barrel!"

"I'm going to take a bath," Steve grumbled. He stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Bucky poured a glass of whiskey and turned on the radio. He kicked off his shoes and sank into the couch. He couldn't blame Steve for being angry. Since Becky had walked in on them at Christmas things had gone from bad to worse. She had honored her promise not to reveal their relationship to the rest of the family, but she had taken every opportunity to sabotage them. This was the second time in a month Bucky had been forced to cancel their plans. He knew Steve was getting irritated, but he was trapped. At least Becky had been caught in the net this time too. Steve was certain to be an extremely unpleasant date.

* * *

Steve turned on the water and stripped down while the tub filled. He threw on his bathrobe and listened to the muffled sounds of the radio as he waited.

You came along on a May day

You brought me love in the Spring

Now I know that May Day

Never meant a thing

I'm just a lonely romancer

Right at the end of my rope

Though I've had your answer

I can't give up hope

Steve rubbed his temples. He felt bad for yelling at Bucky, but he was frustrated and there was no one else he could talk to. For the last few months it had been the same thing. He knew it wasn't Bucky's fault, but it was still starting to wear on him.

I'm in love with someone who doesn't love me

An' that's why I'm bluer than blue

Wasting my time, wasting my love on you

I'm just like a loveboat that's sailing the sea

Without any captain or crew

Wasting my time, wasting my love on you

Steve tested the water and adjusted the temperature slightly. He sat on the edge of the tub to let his feet soak in the hot water. He wiggled his toes, letting the heat seep into his tired legs.

If I could forget your kiss

I'd dismiss you from my memory

But the rapture of your charms

And those arms that used to thrill, haunt me still

I'm forever dreaming of what used to be

And my heart is breaking in two

Wasting my time, wasting my love on you

Slipping off his bathrobe, he carefully climbed in and lowered himself into the tub, moaning as the hot water started to loosen his back. Arguing with Bucky always made his shoulders tense. He leaned forward and held his head under the faucet, letting the water run over his stiff neck.

You took all my kisses, I thought that you cared

Now, what am I going to do

I've wasted my time, wasted my love on you

Just you

And when you seemed lonesome, the hours I shared

I'd live them all over with you

Wasting my time, wasting my love on you

All on you

Lately he wondered if he was fooling himself thinking that he and Bucky could ever work. They loved each other, he knew that, but there was so much against them. They had known from the beginning that it would be a struggle, but lately Bucky seemed to be losing his resolve. He was trying to see a way out of this situation, but he wasn't sure there was one.

Love is such a fickle thing

Still I cling to bygone memories

How can I forget the bliss of your kiss

That used to burn, how I yearn

Ev'ry night I scorch while I carry the torch

Oh, why do I have to be blue

Wasting my time, wasting my love on you

Steve turned off the water as the song faded. He lay back, trying to focus on the bath and let his thoughts drift away. This was all just temporary. He and Bucky had been through difficult times before. They always found a way around it somehow.

After a while, the water began to cool and Steve's fingers started to get pruny. He got out and went to the bedroom to change. When he came out, Bucky was pouring two mugs of cocoa. He set them both on the table and sat down.

"I'm sorry our anniversary plans got screwed up."

Steve sat down at the table across from him. "I'm sorry I lost my temper."

"I know this is frustrating. I wish things could be different, but-

Steve held up a hand. "I get it. It's not really something we can control."

They sipped their cocoa in silence. Bucky leaned back in his chair.

"Look, the dance doesn't start until 7. We still have the whole day."

Steve nodded. There was no sense in complaining about it now. It was only a few hours. "I guess we can see the movie another time."

Bucky leaned over the table to kiss him. "I love you."

"I love you too," Steve echoed.

"What do you say we finish these and call it a night?"

Steve smirked. "I don't know, this is really good cocoa." He took a small sip and leaned back to nurse his drink. He wasn't going to let Bucky off the hook that easy.

Bucky sighed and sipped his cocoa. "Punk."

* * *

Saturday night, Steve sat in the Parish hall with Becky listening to the music. She had tried to run out on him to meet up with her boyfriend but Steve had threatened to tell her parents. If he had to suffer through this, then so did she.

Steve watched closely as Bucky danced with Rose. They had been late getting to the dance. Bucky promised him that nothing had happened, but something about her set Steve on edge. She kept touching Bucky's arm and bumping into him. She always made it look like an accident, but Steve didn't believe it for a minute. Bucky was annoyingly oblivious to her act. In fact, he seemed to find it cute. Steve kept hoping that she might trip and hurt herself badly enough to end the night, but she always managed to fall right into Bucky's arms. Bucky would just set her upright, and laugh.

Becky slapped Steve lightly on the arm, snapping him out of his thoughts. "I want some punch."

"Geeze, are you always this charming?" Steve muttered. He reluctantly got up from the table and went to get her a drink. When he returned to the table, Bucky and Rose were there. Bucky was kneeling in front of Rose, examining her ankle. Steve could tell that she was faking it, but Bucky was playing into her act.

"Does that hurt?"

"Oohh!" Rose winced cutely as Bucky pressed on her ankle. "Do you think it's broken?"

Bucky smiled reassuringly. "Nah, you just twisted it a little. I'll get you some ice."

"Maybe you could just take me home?" Rose suggested.

"Sure." He helped her out of the chair, looping an arm around her waist. She leaned on him, hobbling as they made their way over.

"Hey Steve, Rose twisted her ankle. I'm going to take her home. See you in an hour?"

Steve glared at Rose. She was faking her injury for attention, but if it meant the night would be over sooner, he would let her carry on with her little charade. "Fine, I'll see you later."

"Let's get you home and get some ice on that foot," Bucky said as he led Rose away.

Steve sat down and handed Becky her punch. "Drink it quick. We're leaving."

Becky cackled. "I can't believe he fell for that!"

Steve frowned. "Fell for what?"

"That's the third time she's twisted her ankle this month," Becky told him. "Her mother's pretty strict about her curfew so she pulls that move. She's usually the first one snatched up for school dances, but she has a reputation so no one wants to be seen with her at a church dance."

Steve bristled. He knew she had been faking, but he had never imagined she was that devious. Usually he could look the other way when Bucky went off with a girl, but this was supposed to be their day. He grabbed the cup from her and finished the rest of the punch.

"Hey!" Becky cried.

"We're leaving." Steve grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the parish hall. He looked around trying to figure out where Bucky had gone. "Where does she live?"

"Why would I know?"

Steve huffed and looked around, trying to guess which way to go. Bucky had mentioned that Rose lived in the opposite direction of his parents. He headed down the street, hoping it was the right way. They hurried along, peeking down the alleys as they passed. Steve and Bucky had discovered a few that provided good cover from the street, but any girl bold enough to fake an injury wouldn't worry about being seen.

A few blocks away, Steve started to tire. He stopped and leaned against a wall to rest. Panting for breath, he looked up and down the street, trying to figure out which way to go. Maybe he had gone the wrong way to begin with. He leaned his head back against the wall. He was letting his nerves get to him. Bucky had promised he would be home in an hour. Rose probably wouldn't have time for whatever she was plotting.

"I think we lost them," Becky said.

Steve nodded. "Yeah, come on, I'll take you home."

They turned back and took a right down the next street to cut over. As they passed an alley, he heard voices. They were muffled, but familiar. Steve put a finger to his lips for Becky to be quiet as they crept down the street towards the alley.

* * *

Bucky helped Rose down the alley. "Are you sure this is the right way?"

Rose stopped him. "Well, it's the long way, but we have plenty of time. My parents don't expect me home until 10."

Bucky looked at her warily. "Well if your foot's twisted, the best thing is to stay off it. We should really get you home and put a cold compress on it."

"It's feeling better." Rose smiled, drawing a finger down his arm. "I don't think I need to go to all that trouble."

Bucky felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "We could go back to the dance," he said quickly.

Rose slid a hand inside his jacket. "Or we could stay here and have our own dance."

Bucky cringed. Steve had been right. She had been faking it just to get him alone. He pushed her hand away gently. "I think it would just be best if I take you home."

"Aww, but we barely got to know each other." She grabbed his collar and pulled him down into a kiss. Bucky stood there for a moment, stunned. He wasn't a stranger to being seduced, but not by a dame. He let himself lean into the kiss a bit. Her lips were soft and she tasted like strawberries. Steve wasn't expecting him home for at least an hour and she wasn't going to take no for an answer. A little necking wouldn't hurt anything. Resting his hands on her hips, he pulled her closer.

A trash can fell over at the mouth of the alley. Bucky jumped but Rose didn't seem to notice. Undeterred, she bent to kiss his neck. Bucky looked to see what had caused it. His stomach turned to ice as he saw Steve and Becky standing there. Becky was grinning gleefully, but Steve glared at him, his fist shaking with rage. He took a step forward but Becky put a hand over his mouth and dragged him away from the alley. Bucky pushed Rose away.

"Stop," he said, berating himself for letting it get that far in the first place. "I don't want to do this. I'm taking you home."

Rose glared at him and smoothed her hair. "What, are you scared someone will catch us?"

"No, I just don't like pushy broads." Bucky snapped. "Now I know why you didn't have a date."

Rose slapped him. "Good luck getting a date after I tell all the girls at school that you had a flat tire."

"Tell them whatever you want," Bucky snarled. "If anyone believes you I'll eat my hat!"

Rose scowled and stormed out of the alley. Bucky followed her back to her apartment, careful to stay a few steps behind. If she was going to spread rumors about him, he at least wasn't going to let her claim he'd abandoned her in the middle of the street. She disappeared inside and Bucky headed back to the apartment. Maybe if he walked slowly it would give Steve a little time to calm down. If nothing else, it would give him some time to rehearse his apology.

* * *

Steve poured another small glass of whiskey. After dropping Becky off, he had wandered around for a while to clear his head, but he couldn't shake the image of Bucky and Rose in the alley. This was supposed to be their night and yet Bucky had once again ended up kissing some tart.

Steve took a sip as the door opened. Bucky entered, pausing to hang up his jacket. Steve sipped his whiskey in silence, ignoring him. There was nothing to say that he hadn't said a hundred times. Bucky went to the bedroom to change. He came back and took the bread out of the breadbox. Steve could feel his eyes on him but he said nothing. Finally, Bucky sighed and turned to him.

"Alright what is it?"

"Nothing," Steve muttered.

Bucky scowled and leaned forward on the table. "You know I get real tired of having to wheedle this out if you."

"You know what I'm going to say Bucky!" Steve groaned. "Except I can't say it because we've had this argument so many times I have it memorized." Steve huffed and took a sip of his whiskey.

Bucky sighed. "This is about the girl."

Steve jumped to his feet. "It's always about the damn girl! I want to be the one making out with you in the alley, but I can't! And I can't complain about it either and sometimes I just want to scream!"

"She wouldn't take no for an answer!" Bucky cried. "And she's going to tell everyone I couldn't get it up! Who knows what she would have said if I had flat out turned her down."

"This was supposed to be our night," Steve reminded him sharply. "I asked you for one day and you still ended up with your tongue down some girl's throat!"

"I know," Bucky said. "I'm sorry, but we've-"

"I know!" Steve cut him off. "I know we've talked about this and I don't like it any more now than I did three years ago! Three years Bucky. We've been together for three years and I feel like nothing's changed!"

"You're right!" Bucky snapped. "Absolutely nothing! You know how I feel. So either get over it or get out!"

Steve stared at Bucky for a moment. He felt like he had just been punched in the chest. He loved Bucky more than anything, and he had tried to be patient, but they were still exactly where they had been three years ago. Bucky wasn't ready to commit and Steve wasn't sure he ever would be. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

"Wait Steve!" Bucky caught his arm but Steve didn't turn around. "I didn't mean it like that. Come on. Sit down and let's talk.

"We have," Steve said, his voice shaking. "I've tried to be patient, I really have but you need to decide what you want. You're with me or you're not."

"You know, I'm hurt that you don't get how I feel about you." Bucky let go and grabbed the glass off the table, downing the rest of it in one swallow. "I love you Steve. I've risked everything to try and make this work, but it's not that simple. I know what you want, but if I stop dating my parents are going to catch on and I'm not ready to lose my family for this. Every time we go over there Becky looks at me like I'm a stranger! If my Mom looked at me like that I don't think I could bear it." He refilled the glass and took another sip. "I know it's our anniversary and I'm sorry things got messed up, but I did the best I could."

"I don't know if that's enough for me anymore," Steve said quietly.

Bucky looked at him, his gaze was steady but his voice shook. "What are you saying?"

Steve dug his nails into the palm of his hand and turned to Bucky. "You know what I'm saying."

Bucky took a sip of his whiskey, blinking back tears. "And you know my answer. Do you really want to hear it?"

Steve tried to respond but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he tossed his jacket back on the rack and threw himself at Bucky. Tugging at Bucky's belt, he kissed him furiously, desperate to delay their fight.

Bucky held him back. "Steve."

Steve kissed Bucky's neck as he tugged his shirt free from his pants. "Don't talk. Just make love to me." He didn't want to hear another word. He knew where this was headed and he needed this first. If this was the last time, he wanted to remember every part of Bucky.

He pushed Bucky into the chair and knelt between his legs. Quickly undoing his pants, he took Bucky's cock out and put his lips around it. Surprised, Bucky responded quickly as Steve slid his mouth down until his lips were buried in the patch of curly hair at the base. Sucking gently, he ran a hand up Bucky's thigh. He leaned back to swirl his tongue around the head a few times and slid back down, drawing a deep moan from Bucky. Bucky's fingers wove into his hair, pulling slightly as he writhed on the verge of orgasm. Steve pulled back, afraid to end it, afraid that if he did, one of them would remember that they were fighting. Bucky looked at him, his face flushed.

"Come on, don't leave me like this," he pleaded.

Steve tugged at the waistband of Bucky's pants, trying to slide them off. Bucky lifted his hips to help. Steve pulled them the rest of the way off and took Bucky back into his mouth. He closed his eyes, trying to memorize every line and wrinkle of Bucky's cock. Sliding his hand up the inside of his thigh, he stroked Bucky's balls with a soft teasing touch, twirling his fingers in the short coarse hair. He felt Bucky arch up into his mouth, his legs trembling as he neared the edge. Steve continued his slow rhythm until he felt Bucky tense up and the warm goo fill his mouth. He sat back, letting the taste linger on his tongue.

He opened his eyes. Even though Bucky had just come, he was watching Steve with a hungry gaze. He picked him up and carried him to the bedroom, laying him down on a bed. He dragged the other one over before stripping off his shirt. Climbing on the bed, he quickly unbuttoned Steve's shirt and stripped off his pants. Steve wriggled out of his boxers and pulled his undershirt over his head. Straddling him, Bucky leaned forward and pinned his hands to the bed. Steve gasped in excitement as he felt Bucky's erection slide against his own. He lay back and let Bucky take over.

Kissing his neck, Bucky rolled his hips into Steve's. Steve arched into it, straining against Bucky's grip as he trembled with ecstasy. The was something arousing about surrendering himself like this. He always felt like he had to be in control or things would crumble around him. With Bucky he could just give in and enjoy the moment. This was one of the things he would miss the most. Steve pushed that thought out of his head and brought his attention back to Bucky. He was panting hard, a drop of sweat falling from his forehead on to Steve's neck. He shifted his hands to interlace their fingers. Steve arched his back, grinding his erection into Bucky's. He wished this could last, but he was so close he was going to explode. Digging his fingers into Bucky's hands, he came. Bucky followed a moment later with a strangled groan. Sighing contentedly, he rolled over and put his arm around Steve's shoulders.

Steve curled into the embrace as he caught his breath. He lay there, breathing in the scent of Bucky's hair. They could finish their argument later. For now, he just wanted to enjoy this.

* * *

Bucky held Steve tightly, savoring the feel of his body. He realized it might be the last time. Their fight had only been postponed. Steve wasn't going to let it slide this time.

"Sweetheart," he said softly.

Steve rolled over to face him. For a moment Bucky almost lost his resolve. If he just agreed they could forget this ever happened and wake up happy. He placed a soft kiss on Steve's lips. He wanted this, but there was a reason he had been holding back. Until he sorted it out, he had to let Steve go. He reached down and took Steve's hand.

"Don't do this," he pleaded one last time, hoping desperately that Steve might have a sudden change of heart.

"I love you Bucky," he said. "But I can't keep waiting for you anymore."

Bucky nodded. "I know. I'm sorry. I wish I could be what you need." He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I'll start looking for another place tomorrow."

He felt Steve's grip on his hand tighten. "Don't go."

"What?"

"We're still friends, right?"

Bucky stroked his cheek. "Of course. Always."

"Then don't move out," Steve pleaded. "If you leave, I just feel like I'm going to lose you for good."

Bucky kissed him again. He must be out of his mind to give this up. "I told you from the beginning, I'm your friend first."

A brief smile flitted across Steve's face, then hardened. He dropped his eyes to his hands. "And once we get out of this bed that's all you are." His voice faltered, but he cleared his throat and continued. "It's over."

Bucky looked at Steve. There was no satisfaction or relief in his voice. It was one of the few times since they met that he had seen Steve look utterly defeated. He reached over and stroked Steve's cheek. "We still have tonight."

He gave Steve a slow, languid kiss, running a hand down his side. He closed his eyes and focused on the feel of Steve's skin under his fingers. He had never taken their time together for granted, but he had never expected it to end so abruptly. He was going to drink in every last moment for as long as he could.

He sat back on his knees and kissed a trail down Steve's chest, stopping just below his belly button. He felt Steve roll his hips, urging him down. Bucky leaned back and kissed his way up Steve's inner thigh, nipping gently at the tender skin with his teeth. Steve gasped and gripped the blankets as Bucky wrapped a hand around his cock. He wanted to watch this. This was their last night together and he wanted to see Steve's face.

He stroked slowly, rubbing a thumb across the slick tip, and back down the length. Steve moaned softly, his body tensing as Bucky gently caressed his balls. Placing a light kiss on the tip, Bucky drew back for a moment. He wanted to make this last. Steve was close and it would only take a little more to push him over the edge. He kissed Steve's thigh, watching as he lay there quivering with excitement. Steve whimpered but didn't complain. He didn't want to rush this either.

Bucky leaned in and kissed him. He was going to miss this. Not just the sex, but the feel of Steve in his arms, the taste of his lips, the weird noise he made every time Bucky kissed the spot behind his ear. There were so many things about him that Bucky had grown to love. He took Steve into his mouth. He had never gotten used to the size, but he wanted to remember everything. As he sucked, Steve started to roll his hips, pushing up into Bucky's mouth. Bucky pulled back and wrapped his hand around again. Steve wouldn't last much longer and he wanted to see his face when he came. He reached up and grabbed Bucky's hand, lacing their fingers together as Bucky pumped him with quick firm strokes. He came and fell back on the bed, panting for breath. Bucky lay down beside him, stroking his bare arm.

"Got another one in you?"

Steve rolled over and straddled Bucky's hips. "I could do this all night."

* * *

When Bucky awoke, Steve was already up. He put on his bathrobe and went to the kitchen, . He found Steve cooking breakfast.

"Good morning," Bucky said.

"Morning." Steve replied quietly. "This will be ready in a minute."

Bucky reached out to touch Steve's shoulder, hoping that perhaps he had forgotten their fight, but Steve caught his hand. Bucky took a step back.

"So it's really over then."

Steve just nodded. For a moment Bucky hesitated. If he just agreed, they could go back to the way they had been, but it was time to face facts. Until something changed, this wasn't going to work.

"Sorry."

"Coffee's on the table." Steve said quietly.

Bucky sat down and poured a cup. "So what do we do?"

Steve shook his head and flipped the bacon. "I don't know."

Bucky thought as he sipped his coffee. Their relationship had never been easy, but he had never expected it to end like this. How were they supposed to act now? "Were you serious about me staying?"

Steve set the food on the table and sat down. "Well I can't afford to live alone."

"Forget that for a minute," Bucky said. "Do you want me here."

"It was your apartment first," Steve reminded him. "Do you want me here?"

"I asked you to move in as a friend." Bucky leaned back in the chair and let his head fall back. "We don't have to decide anything right away. I'll go stay with my parents for a few days. We can talk about it after we've both had sometime to think."

"I'd appreciate that." His words stung. Bucky had been hoping he might ask him to stay.

"What are you going to tell them?" Steve asked, tearing apart his toast to nibble on the crust.

"I'll tell them the water is broken. They'll buy that for a few days."

"Won't they wonder where I am?" Steve asked.

"You have that project. I'll just tell them you're staying with a classmate to work on it."

Steve nodded. Bucky ate quickly and went to take a shower. If he was going to stay with his parents, it might help his case to show up to church.

* * *

Tuesday afternoon, Steve sat in the studio staring at his painting. It was due in a few days but he had lost the will to work on it. He had chosen to use Bucky as the subject for his final project in the class. He had to finish it to pass the course, but he just couldn't bring himself to look at it any longer. He had sketched it out weeks ago one afternoon at the park. He had spent the afternoon drawing while Bucky sat against a tree reading a book. He had been entranced by the contented smile on Bucky's face, but now it just seemed to taunt him. He didn't feel like working on something so light hearted, but he was out of time.

He picked up his brush and mixed the brown for the tree. On a whim he added a few strokes of brown to the grass. He washed off his brush and mixed a bit of gray, brushing it over the sky. Maybe if he left the leaves off and made the grass look dead it might suit his mood better. He set down his brush and stood back to look at it.

"Maybe if you added a little green," the student behind him suggested.

Steve turned to glare at Andrew Whittaker. "I don't feel like adding green."

Andrew eyed it with a snide grin. "It just seems like it's supposed to look happier than that."

"Thanks, I'll give that some thought," Steve muttered, washing off his brush.

"Did something happen with you and your model friend?" Andrew asked casually, returning to his own work.

Steve didn't reply.

"If I had someone like that to model for me, I'd be a little happier about it," Andrew continued. "I don't suppose he's coming to the exhibition on Friday."

"Why would he?" Steve asked.

"Right, why would he?" He eyed Steve's painting, with a sly grin. "I bet I could make him smile."

Steve clenched his fist around the brush, but Andrew was already heading out the door. For a moment he thought about ruining Andrew's painting, but that was too far. Besides, the way his week was going, it might end up being an improvement. He packed up his things and headed home. As he passed the butcher he heard the clack of heels behind him.

"Well I hope you're happy!" Becky snapped at him.

Steve turned and waited for her to catch up. "Hello to you too."

Becky fell into step beside him as he continued down the street. "I don't know what you did to him but he's miserable. I can't take him moping around the house much longer!"

"What do you want me to do about it?" Steve grumbled.

"You made him this way, fix him!" Becky demanded.

"That's not how it works," Steve growled.

"Well however it works! Just make him normal again!"

"This is your fault Becky," he snarled.

Becky stopped, taken aback by the accusation. "What did I do?"

"You practically forced him to take that slut to the dance!" Steve cried. "That was our anniversary you stupid cow!"

"He didn't have to go," she argued.

"The hell he didn't! You kept threatening to tell your parents and he got scared."

"Well if it's my fault, why are you blaming him?"

Steve took a breath. He wasn't in the mood to try and explain this to her. He softened his tone and continued. "Look, I know you don't understand, but he needs someone to talk to right now and it can't be me. You're the only one who knows so could you at least try listening to him."

Becky pressed her lips together and gripped her package tighter. "I have to go."

Steve headed back to the butcher shop to get something for dinner. As he waited in line, he looked dejectedly at the pork roast. Even though they had planned to celebrate Saturday, Steve had wanted to make something special tonight. He had planned to make a pork roast with onions and carrots and rolls, but now anything that extravagant just seemed like a waste.

"What'll it be?" the butcher asked.

Steve sighed. "One chicken breast please."

* * *

After work Wednesday, Bucky lay on his bed reading. He stared at the page, but none of the words seemed to make sense. His mind kept drifting back to last Sunday when he had started reading the book. He and Steve had gone to the park and Steve had sketched while he lay in the grass reading. Steve had mentioned using one of the sketches for his final project in a class. Bucky had planned to go to the exhibition, but now it would probably be awkward.

Suddenly Becky barged into the room.

"Do you remember what happened the last time you walked in on me without knocking?" He asked, not looking up from his book.

"Get up! You're going on a date!" she told him. "I set you up with my friend Lucy."

Bucky turned the page. "I've met Lucy, she's not my type."

"Too bad!" Becky said,closing the door. "I'm sick of you moping around. You and Steve weren't going to work and you need to get back out there and find a girl."

Bucky slapped the book closed. "I was actually doing ok on my own until you decided to stick your fat nose in things."

Becky scowled. "If you don't I'm telling Mom. I don't think she'll want a deviant staying under her roof."

Bucky glared at her. "You say one word and I'll tell her you're dating a Baptist."

"He's Presbyterian," Becky retorted. "If I get there first she won't even hear you."

"Fine," he grumbled, swinging his feet off the bed. "Get out, I have to change."

"One more little thing,"

Bucky wrenched open the dresser drawer. "Becky, I swear to god if you keep blackmailing me, I will tie you up and throw you in the East River."

Becky sighed. "We're actually double dating. My boyfriend is coming so I need you to tell mom that you're taking me out to see a movie."

Bucky turned around and started unbuttoning his shirt. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"

Becky grinned. "We're leaving in an hour."

Bucky threw his shirt at her as she left. It hit the door and caught on the doorknob. He sighed and took a fresh shirt out of his bag. Maybe if he got lucky, one of the neighbors would see them and rat Becky out. Something had to go right this week.

* * *

Bucky followed Becky to Lucy's house to pick her up. He spent a few minutes talking to her father while Becky helped her finish getting ready. Bucky had to admit that she was a looker, but he still didn't want to be there. He did his best to be polite, making small talk as they walked down the street, but the pain of losing Steve was still too fresh. Finally They arrived at the restaurant. A young man about Becky's age was waiting outside.

"Becky!"

She hurried over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Her smile made Bucky's blood boil. It wasn't fair that she got to be happy right now. If it weren't for her, he might be at home with Steve instead of out with Lucy.

"Bucky this is Billy Proctor."

"Pleased to meet you," Bucky said, gripping Billy's hand tightly.

"You too," Billy said, shaking his hand with an equally firm grip. "Becky hasn't introduced me to your parents yet. I was starting to think she was hiding me."

"She is," Bucky said, feeling a slight thrill when Billy's smile slipped. "My folks aren't going to be too keen on her dating a Methodist."

Billy glanced at Becky then back at Bucky. "I'm Presbyterian."

Bucky furrowed his brow in mock concentration. "Where was I getting Methodist?"

"Let's go in, I'm starving," Becky said quickly.

Billy nodded watching her uncertainly as they headed inside. Bucky hid a smirk as they were led to the table. After months of torment, it was gratifying to see Becky squirm. They sat down and looked over the menu.

"So Billy, how are things on the track team?" he asked.

"I don't run track."

Bucky looked at Becky. "Didn't you tell me he ran track?"

"No, I didn't." Becky said sharply, kicking him under the table. "You're making this up."

"Who runs track then?" Bucky pressed her. "Was it that guy you went to the movies with?"

Billy lowered his menu. "What's he talking about?"

Becky was glaring at him. "Nothing! He's joking."

"I was looking at the meatloaf," Lucy cut in nervously. "What's everyone else getting?"

"I hear the chicken is good," Becky added.

"That's right, didn't you come here last month with that guy from church?" Bucky asked.

Billy frowned. "What guy?

Bucky snapped his fingers, making a show of trying to remember the name. "Arthur? No, you went dancing with him, it was Gordon."

Becky leaned forward to whisper. "Stop it! You know Mom made me go on those dates!"

Bucky ignored her pleas, raising his menu. "I think I'll have the steak."

They ordered and chatted while they waited. Lucy seemed nice but Billy and Becky were on edge. Every once in a while Bucky would toss in some tidbit about a guy that Becky had dated. Billy was doing his best to ignore it, but Bucky could see he was starting to wonder if there was any truth to what he was saying. Becky was so frazzled that she knocked her water over. Finally dinner ended.

"So where to now?" Bucky asked. Billy and Lucy eyed each other uncomfortably but Bucky continued. "Hey Becky, What was that dance hall you went to last week."

"It was the Parish Hall dance and I went with Steve!" she seethed.

Billy stood up suddenly. "I'll be right back."

Becky jumped up and followed him. Lucy looked at Bucky. "I think I'd just like to go home."

"Yeah ok." Bucky nodded. He felt a bit guilty for being a bad date but he hadn't wanted to come in the first place. He called for the check as Billy returned to the table alone.

"I'm leaving," he said coldly. "Lucy, would you like me to walk you home?"

""Yes, please," Lucy said, hurrying out after him.

For a moment, Bucky felt a twinge of satisfaction. The waiter brought the check as Becky returned to the table. Her makeup was smeared and her eyes were puffy.

"Can you believe that cad left me with the check?" Bucky muttered, pulling out his wallet.

"Why don't you order dessert and choke on it," Becky spat, hurling a roll at him.

"Oh come on, it was just a joke!"

"He broke up with me!" She turned and ran out of the restaurant. Bucky hastily counted out the money and ran after her. His mother would have his hide if he left her alone in the middle of the city.

"Hey, wait up!" he cried, catching up to her at the end of the block.

Becky turned and punched him in the face. "He thinks I've been cheating on him and he never wants to see me again! All thanks to you! "

"Where did you learn to hit like-?" She cut him off with a left to the gut.

"You ruined my life!" she screamed. "You son of a bitch!"

She swung at him again but he caught her wrist. "Yeah how does it feel Becky?" he yelled back. "Because you ruined mine!That's what you've been doing to me for the last 4 months! I'm so nervous every time I come over I can barely eat! And then afterwards, I get yelled at for something that isn't my fault!" He let go of her and stepped away. "If you were my brother I'd hit you right now! You deserve this!"

Bucky turned and stomped away but Becky sat down on a stoop crying. He stopped. In all the time he had known her, he had never seen her actually cry. As a kid, she had done it for attention or to get him in trouble, but he had never seen her this upset. He turned back, approaching her carefully.

"Becky?"

"I love him!" she wailed. "I was going to marry him! You ruined my life!"

Bucky sat down on the stoop beside her and wrapped her in a tight hug. After a few minutes her sobs died down to a pitiful whimper. She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes on her handkerchief.

"You know I was actually trying to be nice setting you up with Lucy."

"Yeah, I probably owe her an apology." Bucky sighed. He leaned back to look at the sky. The pink and orange of the fading sunset reminded him of the painting that hung in the bedroom back at the apartment. Steve was probably sitting in the studio at school looking at these same colors. He wondered if they would show up in his work.

"I'll fix it," he said.

"Fix what?" Becky muttered.

"I'll tell Billy that I made it all up just to get back at you."

Becky looked at him, puzzled. "Why would you do that?"

Bucky sighed. "Because even if I'm mad at you it was a pretty crummy thing to do."

Becky was quiet for a moment. "Thanks."

"Look, I know this doesn't make sense to you, it doesn't make sense to me either, but could you at least try to understand how I feel? It would have been three years for us yesterday, and the way you feel about Billy, that's how I feel about Steve."

Becky sighed. "Do you want me to talk to Steve?"

Bucky shook his head. "It's not that simple.

"Why not? You love him, go be with him. I'll stop bothering you."

"It wasn't just you." Bucky told her. "It's a lot more complicated than that. I love him, but I also want to have it off with that girl I went out with last month."

"So go be with her," Becky said wearily.

"But I love Steve," Bucky said. "And I'd rather be with him than anyone else."

Becky rubbed her forehead. "Are you queer or not? I'm confused."

"Me too," Bucky admitted. "I don't really know how to explain it. I want to be with Steve, but I'm still attracted to girls. I don't know how that's possible and Steve got tired of me not having an answer."

Becky heaved a frustrated sigh. "Come on, you're buying me ice cream."

Bucky stood and turned to help her up. "Fine but I get to pick where."

Becky looped her arm through his, leaning her head on his shoulder as they walked. "So what are you going to do about your apartment?"

"I don't know," Bucky sighed. "I don't suppose you'd want to get a job and move in with me."

"No," Becky said emphatically. "I think we'd kill each other."

Bucky just laughed.

* * *

Friday night, Steve stood by his painting as people milled about the room. He wasn't happy with how it had turned out but his teacher had complimented the juxtaposition of the dark colors with an otherwise happy tone of the lines. He hadn't intended it to be any sort of social commentary, but he wasn't going to correct her if it earned him a good grade.

He shifted his weight and stretched, a bit stiff from standing still for the last hour. He was ready for the night to be over, but he wasn't looking forward to going home. It had been almost a week since he had spoken to Bucky. He had been glad for the solitude at first, but it was starting to get lonely. For the last 10 years they had rarely gone this long without talking. He was starting to worry that Bucky might be gone for good. He missed his sweetheart but more than that he just missed his friend.

He had said once that he could get by on his own, but he didn't want to anymore. He wanted Bucky with him. Friend or lover, it didn't matter anymore. After all they had been through, life without Bucky felt empty.

" I was expecting more blue and orange."

Steve turned to see Bucky. His heart leapt but he tried to control himself. "I didn't think you were going to make it."

Bucky put a hand on his shoulder. "You kidding? After all the time you spent drawing this, I had to see how it turned out."

"And?"

Bucky crossed his arms and examined the painting with a somber expression. "It looks kind of sad."

Steve shrugged. "My professor liked it."

They looked at the painting in silence for a moment.

"I want to come back home," Bucky told him "I know it might be weird at first, but-"

"We'll make it work," Steve said quickly. "If you want, I can sleep on the couch for a while."

"No, we have to get back to normal some time." Bucky crossed his arms and looked at the painting. "I really do care about you, but I don't think I was ready for all this." He paused. "Do you think we can really go back to being friends?"

"I hope so," Steve said. "I can't lose you twice."

Bucky squeezed Steve's shoulder. "You won't," he promised. "I told you pal, I'm with you to the end of the line."

Steve smiled, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease. "We should talk about money and chores. Make sure everything is fair."

"Great, you owe me $2 for the power bill."

"You owe me a dollar for the radio. I had to get it repaired this week."

"Punk."

Steve grinned. "Jerk."

-End-

* * *

A/N: I HAVE A PLAN! I know many of you probably want to tar and feather me for this, but please bear with me, we're nowhere near the end.

Song Credit: Lee Morse / Annette Hanshaw


	16. Moving On

**Moving on**

 _-Brooklyn, Spring 1938-_

Bucky stood at the stove making breakfast while Steve showered. He took the pancake batter and started to drizzle the outline of a heart. Halfway through, he realized what he was doing and poured batter around the edges to cover it up. He poured a cup of coffee while he waited for it to cook.

It had been two weeks since he and Steve had broken up. They had divided up the chores and expenses, but living with Steve was more difficult than he had expected. It was the little things that bothered him the most. All of the daily rituals that they had developed over the last three years were suddenly gone. He would wake up and reach for Steve, but end up grasping at the air. When a song came on the radio, he would turn to ask Steve to dance before he remembered what the answer would be. It was the same apartment, but he suddenly felt like he was living with a stranger.

"Morning," Steve said, coming into the kitchen.

"Morning, Sw-Steve," Bucky replied, quickly correcting himself.

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Pancakes? What's the occasion."

Bucky shrugged. "Saturday."

Steve nodded and started setting the table. "What are you doing today?"

"Going to the gym. I have a tournament coming up in a next week."

There was an awkward pause as Bucky slid the pancake onto a plate and poured the batter for the next one. Steve had never come to a match before they started dating and Bucky wasn't sure he would want to now. Truth be told, he wasn't sure that he wanted Steve there. Girls always flocked to him after a match, and over the last few years he had turned them down so that he could celebrate with Steve. Now that they were no longer together, maybe it would be a good chance to meet someone.

"I'm sure you'll do fine," Steve muttered. He got a cup and poured himself some coffee.

Bucky breathed a sigh of relief and continued cooking. He slid the last pancake onto the plate and carried it to the table. As they ate, they chatted about their plans for the day and what to have for dinner. On the surface things seemed fine, but every time there was a lull or their feet touched under the table, Bucky could feel the tension between them. He wondered if that would ever go away or if he was fooling himself thinking they could be friends after this.

Finally breakfast ended. Steve washed up while Bucky got dressed. He returned to find his lunch on the table. He grabbed it and followed Steve to the door, pausing for a kiss. For a second, Steve leaned in, but stopped. They looked at each other for a moment before Steve turned to open the door.

"Have a good day," he said, hurrying down the hall.

"You too." Bucky muttered, locking the door behind him. That habit would be hard to break. Maybe a good workout would help him clear his head.

* * *

Steve stood at the register drawing. The store was empty and the only sound was his pencil scratching against the paper as he sketched. Business had been slow that day but with the mood he was in that suited him fine. In the back, the door opened and Mr Zimmerman came in. He hung up his hat and came out to check the store.

"Any one come in while I was gone?"

"No, it's been quiet."

Mr. Zimmerman glanced at his drawing. "How is your art going?"

"Alright," Steve said, handing him the sketch pad. "I'm still having trouble with eyes."

Mr. Zimmerman nodded, studying the sketch carefully. "Ah yes, the windows to the heart."

"Soul," Steve corrected him.

"Yes, right. The soul is a complex thing to capture." He handed the sketch pad back to Steve. "That reminds me, I meant to show you something."

He disappeared into the back and returned with a photo album. "A friend of mine back in Germany was an artist. I thought you might like to see some of his work."

Steve opened the photo album and flipped through the pictures, carefully studying the lines of the paintings in the photographs. Even without color they were captivating. The subjects were strange and distorted like something from a monster movie. They had an unsettling, haunted look to them that Steve found oddly fascinating.

"They're intriguing. Does he still paint?"

Mr. Zimmerman shook his head sadly. "This sort of art is no longer acceptable. I'm afraid that many of the paintings in these pictures were confiscated and probably destroyed. He wasn't able to leave when I did, but he asked me to take this so that at least something would remain of his work."

"That's terrible." Steve closed the book and handed it back to Mr. Zimmerman.

"Yes, but all the more reason for you to keep working. Feel free to look at this whenever you like. Art should be seen." Mr. Zimmerman said, touching the book fondly. He bent to put it under the counter. "Is your art all that's bothering you?"

"I'm fine." Steve gripped his pen. He had tried to get his mind off Bucky, but he was obviously doing a poor job.

"I know heartbreak when I see it," Mr. Zimmerman said, flipping through Steve's recent sketchs. "Some of the world's great artworks were made by heartsick young men." He handed Steve a broom. "Keep your mind and your hands busy. It will pass.."

Steve nodded. "Yes sir." He took the broom and went to sweep the store. He hoped Mr. Zimmerman was right about heartbreak inspiring great art, otherwise he was going to have a difficult time next semester.

* * *

The bell dinged to start the round and Bucky moved in to attack. His opponent was short but built like a brick wall. Bucky had never sparred with him before but he'd seen him fight and he knew the man could take a beating. His best chance was to keep him moving and wear him down. He circled around, darting in and out for a few light strikes.

As he danced around the ring, his thoughts started to wander. He and Steve had agreed to go back to being friends, but after three years together, what did that even mean? The line between friends and lovers had become so blurred that he no longer knew the difference. He worried that if he couldn't figure out how to separate them, he would lose everything.

Lost in thought, Bucky failed to dodge, and his opponent hit him square in the jaw. His knees buckled and he crumpled to the floor. He tried to stand up, but his head was spinning. He lay on the mat, waiting for the dizziness to subside. As his vision finally cleared, he realized Sal was kneeling in front of him.

"Barnes?"

"Yeah, I'm ok." Bucky waved him off. He tried to stand up but wobbled. Sal caught him and helped him over to a bench.

"I think you're done for the day, pal."

"No, just give me a few minutes."

Sal handed him a cool rag for his face. "You've had your head in the clouds all week. Go home and rest up. You have a match in a week."

Bucky nodded and leaned back against the wall. He had hoped that boxing might take his mind off Steve but if he kept this up, he was just going to end up with a broken nose. There had to be a safer way to keep busy. He waited for his head to stop spinning and he went to take a shower. Maybe something would come to him on the walk home.

* * *

Steve came in and hung his jacket on the coat rack. He had expected to smell chicken baking, but there was only the stale odor of pancakes and bacon. Bucky was sitting at the table reading the newspaper.

"Hey Bucky," he asked, looking at the spotless kitchen. "Did you forget it's your night for dinner?"

Bucky folded up the newspaper with a guilty look. "Change of plans. I stopped at the fruit stand on my way home and started talking to this girl, so I'm taking her out for dinner and bowling tonight."

Steve sighed wearily. "Fine, I'll have a sandwich."

"She has a friend," Bucky added.

"Who's going to be mad at this girl for a week when you show up with me," Steve grumbled. "No thanks."

"Come on," Bucky pleaded. "It'll be fun."

Steve scowled at him and went to the refrigerator for some milk. "I don't want to go on another date with some girl's friend. I want my roommate to cook so I can listen to the wireless and draw. If it's your night for dinner you have to make dinner!"

Bucky leered at him but then seemed to remember himself. This argument went back to the first week they moved in and usually ended with Bucky on his knees and Steve reluctantly agreeing to whatever Bucky suggested. Now that they were broken up, Steve didn't know what to expect.

"Look, just come out," Bucky asked softly. "If you don't like her, I'll make dinner for a week."

Steve sighed. "Fine. Just let me get changed."

"She's really cute!" Bucky called as Steve headed to the bedroom.

"You're not helping!" Steve replied as he closed the door behind him. He flopped down on the bed to rest for a minute. Bucky meant well, trying to get him out of the house, but the thought of watching him laughing and flirting with someone else made Steve sick to his stomach. It had only been two weeks and Bucky had already moved on. He would have a great time and Steve would come back and go to sleep alone.

He rolled over at looked at Bucky's empty bed. He had grown accustomed to the occasional spat, but since moving in together they had never spent more than a night or two sleeping apart. It had always bothered him watching Bucky fawn over some girl, but at least then he had known that Bucky would be his at the end of the night. This time there was nothing like that to look forward to.

There was a knock at the door. "Steve? You ok? I told the girls we'd pick them up at 6 so we need to get going."

Steve looked at his watch to check the time, and paused, running a hand over it. He thought back to the day Bucky had given it to him. It had been a difficult week, but they had worked through it. Steve had never expected their relationship to be easy, but he had always been confident that they would figure things out. Now he didn't know what to think anymore. He wasn't ready to give up, but it seemed like Bucky might be

"Yeah, just a minute." He quickly changed into a clean shirt and combed his hair. At least he wouldn't have to cook this week.

* * *

Bucky looked over the dessert menu and selected the cherry pie. He also ordered one for his date, Meredith. Steve and his date, Edith, both ordered black coffee, clearly eager to be done. He couldn't tell if Steve was being difficult on purpose out of spite or if Edith was really that disinterested, but he wasn't going to let it ruin his evening. He forced a smile and turned back to Meredith to finish his story.

"So this guy has a good six inches on me. I don't know how he measured into my weight class, but there he is and there's nothing I can do about it. I think, 'this guy is gonna kill me.' The bell rings and he rushes me. I dodged and hung back watching him for a few minutes. I realize that he's tall, but he's kind of awkward and he can't move very quickly. If I can just get him off balance, I have a chance. So I let him move in and throw a punch. He over extends so I step to the side and clock him square in the jaw. He hit the mat like a sack of potatoes!"

Meredith laughed. "That must have been something. I wish I could have seen it!"

Bucky grinned at her. "Well I have a tournament next week if you'd like to come."

"I'd love to!" she gushed.

Bucky heard a sharp intake of breath from Steve. He flinched, but before Steve could react, the waiter returned. Steve and Edith sipped their coffee in silence while Bucky and Meredith chatted about the pie. They finished and Bucky called for the check. Steve grudgingly paid for Edith, shooting Bucky an irritated scowl as he counted out the money.

"Anyone up for going bowling?" Bucky asked as they left the restaurant.

"Can he even lift the ball?" he heard Edith whisper to Meredith. Meredith pinched her lightly on the arm.

"Sounds fun," she replied cheerfully.

Steve dutifully turned to Edith. "Would you like to go bowling?"

Edith recoiled slightly, ready to decline but Meredith pinched her again. She scowled slightly but forced a bland smile. "I'd love to."

Bucky took Meredith's arm as they walked to the bowling alley. They paid and headed to their lanes. Meredith had never bowled before so Bucky took a minute to explain the rules and show her how to throw the ball. She took a small practice swing but her form was off.

"No, you have your arm twisted. Here." She giggled as he wrapped his arms around her to guide her through the motion. "Like this," he explained, cupping her hand gently to show her the proper form.

"Ok, I think I have it!"

Bucky stepped back to let her try. She threw the ball and bowled a strike. Excited, she ran back to give him a hug.

"You're a wonderful teacher!"

"Beginners luck," Steve muttered, getting up to take his turn. As he stepped forward to throw, his foot slipped. He landed face down on the floor as the ball rolled lazily into the gutter. Flushed with embarrassment, he hobbled to the ball return and threw again, only hitting one pin. He returned to his seat to nurse his bruised ego while Edith took her turn, skillfully knocking over most of the pins and picking up the spare. Bucky took his turn, only missing one pin.

"You'll get it next time!" Meredith cheered.

Bucky grinned and sat down, ignoring the icy look on Steve's face as the game continued.

Meredith's first throw proved to be a lucky shot, but she did well for a first try. Bucky and Edith were neck and neck for most of the game. Bucky bowled the final frame and pulled ahead slightly, but his lead was small enough that Edith could overtake him with a strike. Steve only had 14 points going into the final frame. His attention was on Bucky rather than the pins and he kept slipping on the lane. Bucky tried to ignore him and slipped an arm around Merideth's shoulders as Steve stepped up to take his turn. He looked at the pins and stepped forward to throw, but his foot turned and his finger caught in the ball. Carried by its momentum, the ball swung up and whacked him in the nose. With a cry, Steve let go, dropping the ball on his toes as he reached for his face. He let out a muffled curse as a stream of red dripped down his fingers.

Bucky rushed over to help him. "Steve, are you alright?"

"I'm fine!" he snapped.

"Let's go to the restroom and take care of that."

"I've got it," he growled, storming off to the restroom. Bucky held up a finger to let Meredith know he'd be back in a minute and ran after Steve. He closed the door and grabbed a towel.

"Let me take a look," he said, reaching out to examine Steve's face. Steve slapped his hand away. "I'm trying to help you, jerk!"

"I don't need your help," he snarled, leaning his head over the sink to let the blood drain out. "Just go back to your date."

Bucky threw the towel at his head and leaned against the wall to wait. Eventually the bleeding stopped. Steve washed off his face and tried to dab a few spots out of his shirt with the damp towel.

"Are you ok?" Bucky asked calmly. "I can walk the girls home if you want to leave."

"I didn't want to come here in the first place!" Steve growled, throwing the towel at him. "For God's sake, we only broke up two weeks ago! I don't want to sit here and watch you feel up Merideth!"

"You broke up with me!" Bucky retorted. "So you don't get to tell me what to do anymore!"

"Neither do you," Steve said sharply. "Which means I don't have to sit here and watch this. I'm going home. I need to get this shirt in the wash before this sets."

He stormed out of the restroom, slamming the door behind him. Bucky leaned against the wall, sighing heavily. Whatever Steve's problem was he'd deal with it later. There was no sense in letting it ruin the night. Bucky splashed some water on his face and went back to the lane.

"Is he alright?" Meredith asked with genuine concern.

Bucky forced a smile. "He'll be fine, but he went home to put some ice on his nose."

Edith looked at the score sheet. "Well he wasn't going to win anyway, and neither did you."

Bucky sighed. "Well then, anyone up for dancing?"

* * *

It was late when Bucky returned to the apartment. It was dark but a light shown from the bedroom. He took off his jacket and shoes and got a glass of water. He went to the bedroom to find Steve in bed reading with a damp rag laying over his nose.

"How's your face?"

Steve kept his eyes on his book while Bucky changed for bed.

"So you're just not talking to me?" Bucky asked.

"Not sure what else there is to say," Steve muttered, turning the page.

"You're the one who broke up with me," Bucky reminded him.

Steve slapped the book closed. " I did, but did I mean that little to you that you can just pick up where you left off?"

Bucky looked at him in stunned silence for a moment. Steve threw back the covers and stormed into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Bucky started hanging up his clothes in the wardrobe. He waited a moment for Steve to settle back into bed before speaking. "You want to tell me what's wrong?"

"You know what's wrong," Steve said wearily, setting the glass on the nightstand.

"Yeah, but you clearly need to talk about it," Bucky pressed. It wasn't going to be pleasant, but if they were ever really going to be friends again, they would have to work through this sooner or later.

"My problem is you, I can't talk about it with you," Steve insisted.

"Yes you can," Bucky said firmly. "I said I was always your friend first. Just pretend you're talking about someone else."

Steve was quiet for a moment, then he rolled his eyes. "This is ridiculous!"

"Just try it!" Bucky cried, exasperated.

Steve exhaled and took the cloth off his nose. "I was dating this man and I had to break up with him," he began quietly. "I didn't want to, but he didn't really give me a choice and I'm just not sure I'll ever get over it. I still love him."

"I'm sure he loves you to," Bucky said quietly, closing the wardrobe.

"Maybe," Steve muttered. "I just got tired of waiting for him to make up his mind. I tried to give him some space, but I always felt like I was coming in second."

Bucky sat down on the end of Steve's bed. His words stung. Even though Steve had been the one to initiate the breakup, Bucky still hated to see him hurting like this.

"I know I hurt him, ending it like that, but I thought he would at least need some time to get over me," Steve continued. "It's been two weeks, and he's moved on like nothing ever happened, running around with every girl in Brooklyn like he's forgotten about me completely." He looked at Bucky. "Am I that easy to forget?"

"You're impossible to forget." Bucky felt a tear slip down his cheek as he looked at Steve. He had been try so hard to distract himself that he hadn't thought about how Steve was feeling. "Trust me, he's not over you, not by a long shot. He's probably trying to distract himself because he can't stop thinking about you."

"Did I make a mistake?" Steve asked desperately.

For a moment, Bucky wavered. He wanted Steve back more than anything, but it just wasn't going to work right now. He cleared his throat. "No. I know it hurts, but I think you did the right thing."

Steve squeezed his eyes shut. "Then why do I feel like someone ripped my heart out and beat it with a hammer?"

Bucky forced a laugh. "This guy sounds like an ass. You want me to beat him up for you?"

A ghost of a smile flitted across Steve's face. "I don't think you could take him."

Bucky wiped his eyes dry and took a deep breath. "You want to know what I think?"

"What?" Steve asked softly.

"Move on. Go find someone else, have fun, and if you still want him when he's ready for you, I'm sure he'll come crawling back."

Steve smiled, more sincerely this time. "Thanks Buck."

"See, I can still be your best friend," Bucky said. "And if you don't want to come out with me anymore, I won't make you. I was just worried about you sitting here alone."

"I appreciate it," Steve said warmly, "but I think I could use some time to myself."

Bucky felt the tension drain out of his shoulders. Hearing the warmth in Steve's voice again, he finally felt a glimmer of hope that things might work out. He squeezed Steve's shoulder gently and headed to his bed. "Let me know if you change your mind. Now let's get some sleep."

"Good night," Steve said, setting the rag aside and settling back in the bed.

Bucky got under the covers and turned off the lights. "Good night, punk."

* * *

Steve flushed the toilet and washed his hands. He paused to look at his face in the mirror before heading back to bed. A colorful bruise had formed and it was probably going to hurt for a while. It was a miracle his nose wasn't broken after that. He opened the medicine cabinet to get the bottle of aspirin and swallowed one. He headed back to bed, moving quietly so as not to disturb Bucky. In the darkness he stumbled on his bruise foot and fell onto his bed, but Bucky was fast asleep. Steve sat on the edge of his bed for a moment watching Bucky sleep as he rubbed his sore foot.

"I do still love you Bucky," he said softly," and I know you love me. I'm just sorry I doubted that." He crawled back under the covers and laid his head on his arm. "I wish things could be different, but I hope you find what you're looking for, jerk," he muttered as he drifted off to sleep.

 **-End-**


	17. Double Date

Double Date

Oh damn, it's been almost a years since I updated this! If anyone is still reading, thank you! I'm sorry for the long wait. Over the summer I was diagnosed with anemia and an under active thyroid both of which made me super tired to the point where I was just randomly napping all the time. I've taken care of that so hopefully I'll be able to update in a more timely manner. This part of the story has about three chapters to go. I'll try to get them written before Avengers 4 comes out.

* * *

 **-Brooklyn Late Summer 1938-**

Steve sat at the kitchen table sketching the bowl of fruit in front of him. He had been working for hours but it still didn't seem quite right. He set down the sketch book and leaned back in his chair to study his subject. He had the outline but he couldn't seem to get the shadows. Shading had been giving him trouble all semester. He had thought he knew what he was doing, but his summer drawing class had shown him that he still had a lot to learn.

Bucky came out of the bedroom fixing his tie. He reached for a grape but Steve slapped his hand away.

"Don't eat my subject!"

Bucky frowned. "I'm not allowed to eat food in my own kitchen now?"

"Not while I'm still sketching it," Steve said.

Bucky rolled his eyes and went to get a piece of bread and some cheese instead.

"I thought you were going to dinner," Steve said, turning back to his work.

"I'm taking her to some weird French place so I just wanted to have a snack in case nothing looks good." He quickly made a sandwich and sat down at the table. "Sorry I couldn't get a girl for you."

"It's fine," Steve assured him. "I'd just as soon save my money."

"We're going dancing afterwards so don't wait up."

"If I can't get this shading right I won't be sleeping anyway," Steve muttered sullenly.

"Looks fine to me," Bucky said around a mouthful of bread.

"I don't think professor Holmes will agree, and he's the one I need to impress." Steve turned to a new page to start fresh.

Bucky finished his sandwich and patted him on the shoulder. "I'm sure you'll figure it out." He threw on his jacket and picked up his hat. "Hey, if you're not busy tomorrow, do you want to go out to Coney island?"

"I'm not paying your train fare if you blow it all at the shooting gallery," Steve cautioned him.

"Well I'm not paying for your ice cream this time," Bucky teased. "I'll see you later. " He put his hat on and headed out the door.

Steve set his sketch pad down and went to get a glass of milk. He didn't really want to spend the day watching Bucky hit on girls, but it would be nice to get out of the apartment. It felt like lately all he did was go to work or school, then come home and draw. After their break up, Bucky had started dating again and Steve had thrown himself into his art. Things between them had settled down, but some days, Steve still found it difficult to be around him. Part of him still held out hope that Bucky might change his mind if he waited long enough.

He turned to an older sketch of him and Bucky on the couch. He had been working on it when they broke up and he had never finished it. He had almost ripped it up, but he wasn't ready to abandon it, just like he wasn't ready to give up on Bucky. For now, both were simply unfinished.

He set the sketch pad down and went to get his shoes. He was tired of sitting here staring at fruit and he certainly didn't want to sit here thinking about what Bucky was doing. Maybe a walk and a soda would help clear his head.

* * *

Bucky yawned as he trudged up the stairs. It had been a while since he had been out with a girl who could dance like that. It had been a fun night, but he was looking forward to putting his feet up for a bit. He opened the door, surprised to find the lights still on. Steve was fast asleep at the table with his head resting on his arm. His sketch pad lay open beside him. Bucky looked to see if Steve had made any progress, but the book was open to a different page. It was a rough sketch, but it was enough for him to recognize the subject. In the picture Bucky was sitting on the couch with Steve laying across his lap. They looked so content lying there in each other's arms. Times like this, he missed coming home and just curling up together on the couch. He had to wonder what was wrong with him if he couldn't be satisfied with that. Why couldn't he shake the feeling that he was missing out on something by settling down with Steve. He knew he wasn't ready, but he worried that he was going to miss out on the best thing he would find if he didn't hurry up.

Sighing, he shook Steve's arm. "Steve."

Steve groaned but didn't open his eyes. Careful not to wake him, Bucky scooped him up in his arms and carried him to the bedroom. He lay him on the bed and draped the blanket over him. His hand lingered on Steve's shoulder for a moment.

"I'm sorry, I can't love you the way you deserve, but I still love you, Sweetheart." He leaned down to place a soft kiss on Steve's forehead. "Good night."

* * *

It was a warm Tuesday afternoon. Steve was at work, but the rest of the world seemed to be somewhere else. Mr. Zimmerman had left to run some errands, leaving him to mind the shop. He had pulled one of the new books to pass the time. He was well into the third chapter when a young woman entered. She was small and thin with thick glasses and dull flat hair. There was nothing about her that stood out except for her intense eyes.

"Good afternoon," Steve greeted her. "Can I help you find something?"

"Hemingway," she said tersely.

"Any particular one?" he asked, trying to keep his tone friendly.

She shook her head. "It doesn't really matter."

Forcing a smile, he led her back to the shelf and scanned the titles. "Do you like Hemingway?" he asked, trying to make conversation.

"Not so far," she replied

"Then why read him?" Steve asked, pulling a copy of _The Sun Also Rises_ from the shelf. He added, "If you don't mind me asking."

She looked through the book. "My professor is an admirer and I need to be able to tell him why he's wrong."

Steve chuckled and turned back to the shelf. "You'll want some of his short stories then."

Her expression softened a bit. "You don't like him either?"

Steve handed her another book. "He's a good writer, I just don't really agree with some of the things he says. The way he portrays women is unfair."

The woman studied him carefully with renewed interest. "You think so?"

Steve shrugged. "I don't think he likes them very much."

"That's what I've been trying to tell my professor!" she exclaimed. It seems like he's a bit resentful so he either portrays them the way he wishes they were or makes them the antagonist."

"Yes, exactly," Steve agreed. "Uh, is there anything else I can help you find?"

"No, I think this is enough for now."

Steve took her back to the counter and rang up her purchase. "$1.50." She handed him the money. "That's a lot to spend on something you don't like. You could just get them from the library."

"I like to make notes in the margins," she explained. Steve handed her the books, but she lingered for a moment as though waiting for him to say something. "Maybe I'll come back when I'm done and tell you what I think," she added.

"Sure, I'd love to hear your thoughts."

"I think I'll be done with them next week," she said. "Do you always work Tuesdays?"

"Pretty much," Steve said. "I'm off in the evenings."

"I have that evening free too," she said pointedly.

It suddenly dawned on Steve that she was flirting with him. "Oh, uh, maybe we could discuss it over a cup of coffee. I get off at 4.

"I'd like that," she said with an amused grin.

"Tuesday then." He extended his hand toward her. "I'm Steve by the way."

"Myrtle." She shook his hand slowly, squinting at his face. "Did we take a dance class together a few years ago?"

"We did!" Steve suddenly remembered. "Your friend Anna stepped all over my feet."

Myrtle laughed. "She still does that! I don't remember you being too graceful either."

"Well, lucky for you I'm much better at discussing literature than I am at dancing!"

"I'll believe it when I see it!" Myrtle teased. She gathered her books. "I need to be going. I'll see you Tuesday."

"Great, I'll see you then!" Steve called as she left. He grabbed the broom and started to sweep the shop, grinning ear to ear. A few minutes later, the door opened and Bucky came in.

"Hey, ready to go?"

Steve looked at the clock. "I'll be ready just as soon as Mr. Zimmermann gets back."

"What's got you smiling like that?" Bucky asked.

"I have a date," Steve announced proudly.

Bucky's smile slipped for a moment, but he quickly recovered. "So you actually managed to ask a girl out?" he said, slapping Steve on the back a little too hard.

"I ask out plenty of girls!" Steve protested. "They just don't usually accept."

"What's her name?"

"You're never going to believe it!" Steve exclaimed. "Do you remember those two girls, Myrtle and Anna from that dance class we took?"

"No kidding?" Bucky said. "Which one?"

"Myrtle. She came in the book store this afternoon and we started talking about Hemingway."

Bucky gave him a strange look. "You hate Hemingway."

"So does she!" Steve cried excitedly. "We're going to meet up Tuesday after she reads the book she bought."

Bucky forced a smile. "Well good for you. Do you have anything new in to keep me from dying of boredom while you're out on the town?"

"Yeah, I set this aside for you," Steve pulled a book out from under the counter. "New Tarzan novel."

Bucky flipped through the book quickly and dug some money out of his pocket. "I'll meet you at the diner. I'm going to get a start on this." He paused. "Which Hemingway book?"

"The _Sun Also Rises_ ," Steve said. "It's on the bookshelf at home if you're interested."

"See you there," Steve called after him. He picked up the broom and continued sweeping. He felt a bit guilty but he had enjoyed seeing Bucky's face when he heard about Myrtle. He was genuinely excited for the date, but he also felt a bit of satisfaction knowing that Bucky would be the one left home for once.

* * *

Tuesday afternoon, Steve stood by the front display dusting the shelves. He had already swept the floor twice and put back all the books. There was nothing left to do and it was only half past three.

"You've been very industrious today!" Mr. Zimmerman remarked. "I don't think I've seen the store this clean since it opened.

"I have a date this afternoon," Steve told him. "To be honest I'm a little nervous."

Mr. Zimmerman reached out and adjusted his tie. "You look very sharp. You'll do just fine."

At ten 'til four, he finally saw Myrtle walking toward the shop. She was wearing a blue dress and her hair had been curled and pinned up. Her lips were bright red and her eyes seemed to pop, though from the way she kept blinking, it seemed like she wasn't used to whatever she had done. She tugged at her dress as she approached the door. Steve fixed his hair and reached under the counter for the book he had set aside for her.

Mr. Zimmerman leaned in to whisper. "If you want to leave a few minutes early, I think I can manage."

"Thank you sir," Steve whispered. He turned to greet Myrtle. "Hi Myrtle."

"Hi Steve."

"How was the book?"

She shook her head. "I have a lot to discuss. Are you ready to go?"

"Before we do, I have something else you might find interesting." He handed her the book.

Myrtle looked it over. " _Their Eyes Were Watching God_. I haven't heard of it."

"If you don't like Hemingway, I think you'll enjoy it." Steve said.

She smiled warmly. "Thank you."

"Mr. Zimmerman, I'll be taking off now," Steve called.

"Have a good time!"

Steve offered Myrtle is arm and led her to a diner nearby. They took a seat and Steve ordered a cup of coffee for each of them. They talked briefly about the book while they waited. The waitress returned a few minutes later with the coffee.

"So you said you were reading Hemingway to discuss with your professor? What are you studying?"

"History and English," Myrtle told him. "I want to go to law school."

Steve gaped. "Law school!"

Myrtle stiffened. "Something funny about that?"

"No, it's impressive!" Steve added quickly. "I've never met a woman who wanted to be a lawyer."

"Well I actually want to be a judge, but you need to be a lawyer to do that."

The waitress returned with their coffee. Myrtle stirred a bit of cream into hers and tucked her hair behind her ear. "What have you been doing?"

"I'm in Art School," Steve told her. After hearing Myrtles grand plans, he suddenly felt a little intimidated, but Myrtle smiled.

"I knew you'd wind up doing something like that. You have that look."

Steve frowned. "What look?"

"Like you're always studying everything," she explained. "And you're not very graceful, but you look like you're good with your hands."

Steve glanced at his hands reflexively and picked up his cup.

"What medium do you prefer?" she continued.

Steve felt a flutter in his stomach. He'd rarely had girls take an interest in his art and none of them seemed to know enough about it to have an actual conversation. He took a sip of coffee to hide his surprise.

"Mostly I've been drawing, but I'm starting to get into painting. I really like watercolors. It takes a lot of practice, but I like the gradient effect you can get."

Myrtle nodded and sipped her coffee, leaning forward a bit. "What styles influence you?"

"Well most of my work is more realistic, but some of the abstract works are fascinating. My boss has some photos of some works by a German Expressionist painter. They're kind of unsettling, but you can really see the emotion in them."

"I've always liked the impressionists," Myrtle replied. "I think the concept says a lot about life. The picture doesn't make sense until you step back, but every tiny dot is significant."

"That's a beautiful thought," Steve told her. "I've never met anyone who appreciated art that way. Outside of school at least."

"History and art are inexorably linked." Myrtle explained. "You can't understand one without the other. Art is always influenced by the times, what preceded it, what the artist lived through, who's willing to pay for it."

"I never looked that it that way before but you're right," Steve agreed. "Would you like another cup of coffee?"

Myrtle smiled. "Yes please."

Steve called for the waiter. He ordered two more cups of coffee and a slice of pie for each of them. As they continued talking, Steve was amazed to see the change in Myrtle. She was vivacious and engaging, the opposite of the serious young woman whose feet he had trampled in dance class. It was the first time that he had genuinely enjoyed being on a date with a woman. It was also the first time he didn't cringe when the bill came. He usually resented having to pay for a date that neither he nor the girl wanted to be on, but he was happy to pick up the check for this one.

He walked Myrtle home. Steve was enjoying the conversation so much that he almost didn't notice when she stopped.

"This is where I live," she said, putting a hand on his arm to get his attention.

"I had a great time," Steve said. "I'd love to do it again."

"Me too." She paused. Steve realized she was waiting for him to speak.

"Are you free Saturday? Maybe we could go to the art museum?"

"Yes, Saturday sounds great," she said.

Steve could feel a smile creeping across his face. "Alright, I'll pick you up at 2."

"I'll see you then. Good night!"

"Good night!" Steve called as she headed inside. He strolled to the corner before letting out a loud cheer.

* * *

Bucky lay on the couch reading _The Sun Also Rises_. He had always enjoyed Hemingway and he never quite understood Steve's objection. He put the book down and looked at his watch. Steve should have been home by now. He had said that they were just going out for coffee, but it was almost 8 o'clock.

He marked his place and went to get a glass of water. He wondered what Steve and Myrtle had found to talk about for so long. Steve wasn't the best conversationalist and he didn't remember Myrtle being the chatty type. He had expected the date to be over hours ago, but now he was half way through the book and Steve still wasn't back.

As he sat back down, the door opened and Steve entered.

"Hey how was the date?" Bucky asked, trying to act casual.

"It was incredible!" Steve gushed as he hung up his jacket. "Myrtle is brilliant. She wants to be a lawyer and she actually understands art and literature and history."

"Well I'm glad you had fun,"

"We're going out again Saturday!" Steve said.

Bucky choked on his milk. "Saturday?"

"Yeah I figured you probably had a hot date anyway,"

"Well not yet but it's only Tuesday," Bucky said as nonchalantly as he could manage.

"I'm going to change real quick. Do you want to play a game?"

"Yeah sure," Bucky said. He opened the cabinet to select a game. He was happy for Steve, but he couldn't help feeling a bit worried. He hadn't expected the date to go so well. Myrtle had seemed like a bit of a cold fish when he was dancing with her, but maybe she had a more sociable side? What if she actually managed to steal Steve away from him. He had needed some time away from their relationship, but he had never actually thought that Steve might find someone else. Why was this happening now? Steve had found maybe one or two girls who could even tolerate him for an evening and now that they were broken up he met someone he actually seemed to get along with. Bucky had never believed in his heart that their breakup was permanent, but had he been wrong? Was there a chance that he could actually lose Steve for good?

"What are we playing?" Steve asked.

Bucky blindly grabbed a box. "Monopoly?"

Steve shook his head. "It's too late to start that. Let's play Sorry."

"Sorry it is!" Bucky found the game and brought it to the table. He set up the board while Steve made a sandwich.

"You want one?" he asked.

"Sure, no mustard."

Bucky watched Steve with a growing ache in his chest. He tried to put that thought out of his head. It was one date. Even if they did hit it off, it would be a while before anything serious happened. He still had time.

Steve set the food on the table and took a seat. "Alright, get ready to lose!"

Bucky picked up the dice. "I haven't lost yet."

* * *

Saturday Afternoon Steve was in the bathroom getting ready for his date. Bucky sat in the living room reading a book, but he was having trouble concentrating. He hadn't been able to find a date for the evening so he would be spending it alone. That didn't bother him so much as having to sit here while Steve was out with Myrtle. Bucky was trying to be happy for him, but he had never really had a reason to worry before. Steve hadn't stopped talking about her all week and it was getting harder to ignore the twinge of jealousy he felt every time Myrtle's name came up. If he didn't know better, he would almost think that Steve was torturing him on purpose.

"Bucky, have you seen my brown shoes?" Steve called from the bedroom.

Bucky looked around and spotted the shoes by the coffee table. On a whim, he pushed them under the couch with his foot. "I don't see them."

Steve came out to look. "Are you sure. If I have to wear the black shoes, I'll have to change my pants."

Bucky shrugged. Steve knelt down to look under the couch.

"They're right here under your feet, lame-brain!" He exclaimed, shoving Bucky's feet away to get the shoes.

"So where are you taking her?" Bucky asked.

"The Brooklyn Museum," Steve replied, bending to tie his shoes. "Then out to dinner, so don't wait on me. What are you going to do?"

Bucky shrugged. "Go to the gym, maybe take a walk."

There was a knock at the door. Steve finished tying his shoe and went to answer it. "Myrtle! I was just heading over to pick you up."

He opened the door to let her in. Bucky took a look at her. She had filled out a little in the last few years. She was still plain and petite but her curled hair and colored lips helped soften her look a bit.

"I'm sorry to come over unannounced," she said, "but I forgot that I had made plans with Anna. She's leaving tomorrow to spend the month at her Aunt's in Syracuse and I won't get another chance to see her for a while. Could we possibly reschedule?"

Steve scratched his head for a moment. "What would you say to making it a double date? Bucky can go with Anna and then we can all go together.

Bucky closed his book. "Say what?"

'Steve held up a finger to silence him. "We could all see a movie and have dinner?"

"That would be great," Myrtle said with relief. "I'll go tell Anna. We'll meet you at the movies in an hour."

"I'll see you there!" Steve said as she left.

"What did you just volunteer me for?" Bucky demanded as soon as the door closed.

Steve turned, looking him squarely in the eye. "You owe me."

"Huh?" Bucky asked.

"You owe me," Steve repeated. "After all the times you've dragged me along to keep some dame busy while you felt up her friend, you owe me this one. I really like Myrtle and may actually have a shot with her. Don't ruin this for me!"

Bucky nodded. "Ok, you're right, I owe you.

"You're damn right. Hurry up and get changed, I don't want to be late."

Bucky went to put on something nicer. Steve was right, Bucky did owe him a favor. Besides, Anna was a looker and as long as they didn't go dancing, it wouldn't be a bad way to spend the evening.

000

"So what's playing?" Bucky asked as they walked to the theater?

" _Algiers_ ," Steve replied. "It's a drama about a jewel thief."

Bucky nodded. "Sounds interesting."

Steve took a deep breath and fixed his hair as they turned the corner. Myrtle and Anna were waiting for them under the marquee.

"Myrtle!" he called

She turned, smiling at him. "Hi Steve! Anna, you remember Steve and Bucky "

"Of course! From the dance class!" Anna said. "It's good to see you again. We both missed the last few classes so we never got to say goodbye. I hope the numbers worked out."

"I had to dance with Steve" Bucky joked, "but it turned out alright."

"Thank you for this," Myrtle said quietly as Bucky and Anna chatted.

"You're welcome," Steve said. "I've actually been wanting to see this."

"I'd still like to go to the museum," Myrtle said. "The Renaissance exhibit sounds fascinating

"We should go in," Bucky interjected. "It'll be starting soon."

Steve checked his watch. "You're right."

Steve and Bucky bought the tickets and they went in to find seats. Myrtle and Anna sat together and Bucky and Steve sat on either side of them. They settled in as the newsreel started. Steve leaned over to say something to Myrtle about the report on the situation between Germany and Czechoslovakia, but her attention was on Anna. He turned back to the screen. If Bucky were leaving for a month he would probably be the same way.

The newsreel ended and the film started. Steve found himself oddly distracted. The film was interesting, but his mind was on Myrtle. During a tense moment, he looked over to check on her. She didn't seem the type to get easily frightened, but it might be a good chance to hold her hand. He reached over but she was leaning away from him, clutching Anna's hand tightly. Steve sighed and turned back to watch the movie. He was starting to think they should have just postponed their date after all.

He looked over to check on Bucky who was enthralled with the film. Steve chuckled quietly. He wondered how long it had been since Bucky had actually seen a movie. He usually let Steve pick on a date because he was probably going to miss the middle of it. Steve would usually fill him in but every now and then he would try to trick him. When they saw Snow White, he had actually managed to convince Bucky that there was an 8th Dwarf called Hungry who had died after eating the poison apple. Bucky had insisted on seeing the movie again just to be sure.

The movie ended and they walked to a diner down the street. Bucky and Anna talked about the film while Steve tried to talk to Myrtle about an upcoming art show. She nodded politely, but her mind was elsewhere. She seemed more interested in Bucky and Anna's conversation. During dinner she nodded politely when he said something, but her responses were short. Eventually he gave up and concentrated on his food. He wasn't sure what had gone wrong, but somehow it felt just like being on a double date with Bucky. He sat back and watched carefully. He knew she wasn't interested in Bucky. In fact she seemed almost resentful of him. The way she was looking at him reminded Steve of how he usually felt.

Suddenly a thought struck him. Was Myrtle in love with Anna?

As the evening drew to a close Steve became more convinced of his theory. Strangely it had never occurred to him that two women might be in love. He realized what a silly assumption that was but he had never met a girl like that. Bucky offered to take Anna home and headed off in the opposite direction. Steve walked Myrtle home, trying to think of a way to confirm his suspicions. If he was wrong he risked exposing himself and ruining any potential for a friendship, but if he was right, this could be an amazing chance. It would be wonderful to have someone besides Bucky who could understand what he was going through.

Myrtle was the first one to break the silence. "Thank you for tonight. It was fun."

"Really?" Steve asked. "I got the feeling you would have rather gone alone with Anna."

"Oh gosh I'm sorry. I was ignoring you wasn't I?"

"A little," Steve told her.

"I'm sorry, I probably should have just rescheduled.

"It's more than that, isn't it?" Steve said carefully. "I really do like spending time with you, but I just get the feeling you're not interested in me like that."

"Of course I am. I just-"

Steve held up his hand. "It's ok. I'd still like to be friends but there's no sense in pretending it's more than that."

Myrtle looked down. "The truth is there's someone else I like, but it's one sided, I really do enjoy your company," Myrtle insisted. "And I don't want to lead you on, it's just-"

"Hard to move on with your life when you're still in love," Steve finished. He scratched his neck nervously. "Um, Myrtle, forgive me if I'm wrong, but if I don't say this, we'll be here all night. Are you in love with Anna?"

Myrtle stared at him in shock but he could tell that he had guessed right.

"It's ok." He sat down beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. "I understand."

Myrtle looked puzzled for a moment, but then smiled. "Bucky?"

"Yeah, Bucky."

"Thank god!" she cried. "For a while there I was afraid we were just going to keep bluffing each other until we ended up married!"

"Not the worst idea I've heard," Steve joked. "Does anyone know?"

Myrtle shook her head. "Thankfully Anna's too dumb to realize it. You?"

"Bucky's sister found out. She wasn't exactly thrilled, but she kept quiet."

"It would be nice to have someone to talk to," Myrtle said.

"It would," Steve agreed. "I have Bucky but there are things I can't really talk to him about. We dated for three years but we broke up a few months ago. We're still friends, but it would be nice to have someone else around. And it would be great to have someone that I actually enjoy being with on a date. The girls Bucky finds just look right through me."

Myrtle fiddled with the hem of her dress. "So if you don't mind me asking, what happened between you two?"

"It's complicated." Steve stood and offered her his hand. "Should I tell you over coffee on Tuesday?"

Myrtle stood up and slipped her arm through his. "I'd like that."

* * *

Bucky sat down on the couch and opened his book. For once he was home before Steve. The movie had been good and Anna was a dish, but he still wished he had bowed out and gone to the gym instead. He wondered if that was how Steve felt on a date. If that was true, he could understand how that had driven a wedge between them. Seeing Steve genuinely interested in a girl had rattled him. He felt like a heel for putting Steve through that for three years.

Steve returned about an hour later. "You're home before me? That's a first."

Bucky shrugged. "She's cute, but not worth breaking my toes."

Steve kicked off his shoes and sat down on the other end of the couch. "Thanks for coming with me."

"It was nothing. I had fun." He paused. "Are you going to see Myrtle again?"

"I am, but just as a friend," Steve told him. "She likes someone else."

"Hey, I barely said a word to her all night!" Bucky said quickly.

"Not you!" Steve exclaimed. "She likes Anna."

Bucky's jaw dropped in surprise. "Anna? You're kidding!"

"Nope. I don't think Anna feels the same though," Steve said sadly.

"I doubt she noticed," Bucky muttered. He trailed off, lost in thought. "What would two women even do together?"

Steve shrugged. "I don't know. We figured it out."

"Did you tell her about us," Bucky asked.

Steve nodded. "She guessed. I hope you don't mind. It's kind of nice to be able to say it to someone who understands."

"It's fine, I'm happy for you," Bucky said. "Honestly I wish I had someone to talk to sometimes."

"You can always talk to me," Steve said.

"I know, but it seems a little unfair." Bucky said.

"None of this is really fair," Steve said wryly. "Come on, talk to me."

Bucky took a deep breath. "When you told me about your date with Myrtle it was the first time I'd seen you smile like that in months. I miss being the one to make you happy."

"I miss that too," Steve confessed.

There was a long pause. For a moment, Bucky was tempted to ask Steve to get back together, but nothing had changed. As much as it hurt they still needed time to work things out on their own.

"You want to play Monopoly?" he asked.

"I don't have the energy for that one," Steve whined. "What about Scrabble."

"Fine, but no cheating this time!" Bucky warned him. He went to clear the table as Steve got the game.

"How did I cheat?"

"Some of those words sounded made up to me!" Bucky said. "Sfumato?"

"Maybe if you paid more attention at the museum, you'd know what it meant." Steve teased.

Bucky cracked his knuckles. "Get ready to lose punk."

 **-End-**


End file.
